The Daughter of Apollo
by babedarlingpotter
Summary: Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways. Follow Bella in her journey as a half-blood, meeting her true love and fighting against a prophecy that tells her of her demise. BellaxEdward.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Dear reader,

Before we begin this story, I must first say that I am very glad that of all the stories out there, you have chosen this one in particular. But I will be frank with you. What you are looking at right now isn't a mere tale. It is a retelling of a love so strong that it transcends time itself. It is a love prophesized, a love so pure and true that it melts the heart of Hades himself. It is probably the greatest of love stories out there – and believe me, I have read (perhaps even made) plenty of love stories.

The story of Isabella and Edward is the stuff of the untold legends. Very few people know of it, me being one of those informed few. So I must tell you now, dear reader, to beware of this story. Beware of what you will find out. Keep its secrets, because it is the stuff of untold legends for a reason.

Lovingly yours,

Aphrodite

**Author's Notes**

**I'm a fan of Percy Jackson ever since I saw the movie with my friends. After I watched the movie, my mind reeled at the possibilities of that particular universe crossing over to the Twilight universe. I always do that with all the awesome movies I watch, and sometimes the stories I come up with – to put it simply – are crap. But the plotline that I developed for a Percy Jackson/Twilight fic seemed plausible.**

**In other words, it wasn't crappy at all. And so I planned a bit more of it, but halfway through my planning, I realize that I've only seen the movie. How am I supposed to write a story that leans heavily on the Percy Jackson series if I haven't read the books at all? And so I bought the books, read it all in one week, and then resumed my planning. Once I was happy with my plans, I began writing the story.**

**As you may have guessed by now, this story is a Percy Jackson/Twilight crossover fic. The main character is Bella, and she is a half-blood. A demigod – or is it demigoddess? I'm not really sure. Anyway, she's a daughter of an Olympian god, but she doesn't know who it is. I honestly think that it's pretty obvious, but hey, she's not supposed to know who it is.**

**I think that's all I have to say right now. I've written a couple of chapters of the story already, and if I get reviews saying that I should post them, then I will. But if it's actually a crappy idea, I won't post them. That doesn't mean though, that I'd strop writing it because I want to continue it. I just want to share it with everyone, so… it's your loss, I suppose.**

**=D**


	2. First Introduction

**A/N: All right, due to popular demand (there were six reviews, but that's good enough for me), here is the first chapter. It's good to know that people would actually read this story. It's kind of gratifying, actually.**

**Anyway, I just want to tell everyone that this story will be leaning on mostly to Twilight events and not so much on Percy Jackson. The Greek deities will be mentioned a lot, but I'm not sure about Percy or Annabeth or Grover or anyone else. Any demigods that I mention will most likely be of my own creation. I hope nobody minds.**

**Well, I think I've kept you long enough. Here's the first chapter! *insert drum roll***

**Disclaimer:**** I wouldn't be posting this for every chapter I do, so consider this effective for the entire story. I don't own any sort of rights to the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, and I don't own the Twilight saga either. They both belong to Rick Riordan and Stephenie Meyer, respectively. I just take liberties with their wonderful creations.**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 1

"For almost ninety years I've walked among my kind, and yours… all the time thinking I was complete in myself, not realizing what I was seeking. And not finding anything, because you weren't alive yet." - Edward Cullen, _Twilight_, page 304

**JPOV**

_August 9, 1997_

_Saturday 20:32_

_It's a dark and stormy night – well, not exactly stormy since it's a clear night tonight in Riverside, California. My family and I had moved into the city just a few months ago, which was odd since as vampires, we cannot go out in sunlight without glittering up a storm._

_Did your eyes just jump out of its sockets? Yes, you read right. Vampires. My family and I are vampires. We used to be humans at one point, but we were turned into these bloodsucking monsters because another vampire bit us – in my case, Charlotte, who changed me to help her in the newborn wars._

_That was way back in 1863. Now I'm living in a penthouse apartment with my loving family. My wife, currently, is lying next to me as she flips through the book she was reading. The author's called L.J. Smith, and the book's titled Night City – I think. I can't really remember since I didn't bother reading the title. I don't like reading, a habit I picked up from my human years. Writing, on the other hand_

I looked up from my journal, feeling my wife stir beside me.

"Alice?" I asked, in one swift movement tucking away the pen I was using into the book to mark my page and then stowing it away under my pillow. I wrapped an arm around my wife and lifted her chin up to face me. She was frowning, but I didn't need to ask the question. Alice was answering already.

"I'm just at a really good part, Jazz," she said, smiling that impish smile of hers whenever she's in the middle of a good part in a story.

"Oh?" The interest in my voice wasn't feigned.

"Yes," Alice nodded. "Rashel and Quinn are exchanging blood, finally. That means she can become a vampire if they do it a couple more times."

I looked at the cover of the book with longing. If only vampire transformations were like that: lengthy with intervals in between. But the truth is, it was neither lengthy nor did it have intervals. Once you're bitten, you're done for. Then after three day's worth of screaming from the burning sensation, you're finally a vampire – a bloodsucker, an unnatural abomination.

"Oh, Jazz," Alice gushed, probably at seeing the forlorn expression on my face. "I'm so sorry…"

Now it was her turn to comfort me. Before I could even appreciate the warmth and love I felt in embracing my lovely little wife, I heard a commotion from outside of the apartment. I locked eyes with Alice. It seemed it wasn't just me who noticed.

"It's Edward," she said, straight to the point. "He found something while hunting. It looked like a brown bundle in my vision; I couldn't see much because it was shorter than the ones I usually get."

Edward had left two days ago to go hunting. Living in the city, proper hunting times in the wilderness were few and far in between, so we have to make do with whatever wildlife we find lurking in alleys, or sometimes we just steal from the local zoo. No one really notices anyway. We cover our tracks meticulously.

"Can you smell that?" Emmett, who was holed up in the kitchen playing battleships with Carlisle, asked. "Smells like blood…"

I stiffened at the mention of the very substance that was both the bane of my existence and the reason. I instantly calmed, though, when Alice slipped her tiny hand in mine and began leading me to the living room to meet Edward. He burst in through the entrance only a second later, hair mussed and standing in many different directions. I only had time to take in my brother's haggard appearance before the brown bundle in his arms moved.

"Edward, what…?" Esme tried to form a question, but stopped when the answer came to her.

"A human infant," I asked, confused. Why would Edward, of all people, bring home a child from a hunting trip? It was definitely not because he accidentally killed the parents and felt pity on the child – that sounded more like something I could do, though I hope it would never happen.

"Not an infant," Edward corrected. "I think the girl's around seven or eight."

Rosalie, who perked up at the mention of a child, looked up from the bundle in Edward's arms and said, "I think she's older than that, just small for her age. I've never seen an eight year old wear hairspray before." She pointed to the tight mass of curls on the child's head.

"And she seems to be dressed for some sort of special occasion," said Alice, coming closer. "Brown chiffon," she muttered lowly. "Tsk! She should be wearing something more girly, like pink or yellow… or blue! She'll look stunning in blue."

"Yes," agreed Rosalie, "though I think pink is more her color. She certainly will look adorable in it, especially with those curls."

I watched alone in a corner as Edward handed the girl to Esme, who carefully settled her on the sofa. Carlisle then started interrogating him. Where did he find her? Who was she? Why did he save her? Was there anything wrong with her? Thankfully, the blood was not the child's, but from whichever animal Edward was gorging himself with before he found the girl. He must've been taken by surprise if he managed to spill that much blood on himself.

"So you're saying you found her behind a dumpster?" I was unabashedly eavesdropping on the conversation, and it was clear that everyone else was as well.

"She was shivering from the cold," nodded Edward. "I think she has fever, but I can't be sure without using the thermometer. Our skin's too cold to – but back to the point, I think she got separated from her parents. You simply don't find young girls in dresses sleeping behind a dumpster."

"You can't rule out kidnapping," inserted Alice. "If she was, then she might've run away from the people who kidnapped her."

Esme frowned. "She doesn't strike me as the kind to be kidnapped, Alice." She cast a sad look at the sleeping girl on the sofa, bundled up into a protective ball. "She's a tough one. Too tough, I reckon, for someone her age."

"Do you think she was abused?" was Rosalie's uncharacteristically timid reply.

Feeling like I should step in, I literally took a step forward and addressed my sister. "She's not an abused child, Rosalie. The pretty dress should tell you that she's taken cared of and well loved. I'm sure that her parents, whoever they are and wherever they might be, are worried for her." But I didn't stop there. This seemed to be one of those times wherein I wasn't able to control myself. "She's having a very disturbing dream," I grimaced. "Her emotions are everywhere, mostly focusing on fear and confusion."

"Delirium can be one of the symptoms of influenza," said Carlisle. I felt a minute spike of apprehension from Edward at the mention of the cause of his death, but it was gone a second later. "She definitely has a fever, though. I'll need to run out and get some medicines for her, but first… Rosalie?"

Rosalie straightened up, listening with rapt attention.

"Since you're a nurse, you take care of her while I'm gone. Bring her some more blankets and pillows if necessary. Esme, you're going to be in charge of the food. I think a sandwich or soup will suffice. Buy something sweet, too. We'll need it for bribery purposes. We need to her speak about what happened to her."

"Can't I just make her feel like talking?" I asked.

"No!" growled Edward, taking me by surprise. "She's just a child. You can't manipulate her like that."

I backed away with both my hands in the air, the universal sign for surrender. I wonder what got his knickers in a twist. My brother, who has the ability to read people's thoughts, growled again at the mention of his checkered boxers.

"What should everyone else do?" questioned Emmett. I felt both excitement and wariness, protectiveness, coming from him. Did he see this girl as danger to the family? I wonder why.

"Oh," Alice grinned, breaking the seriousness of the situation, "everyone else is going to sit here in the living room and wait until Carlisle and Esme comes back. Edward's going to hover around the girl and annoys Rosalie in the process, while you, Emmett, are going to challenge my Jazz to an arm wrestling match."

My eyes bugged out at this. For a vampire, I was pretty strong. Above average due to the fact that I was a soldier in the civil war, but it's nothing compared to Emmett and his muscles. Strength was the characteristic he brought into this damned life, while all I took was the ability to control emotions. This was an unfair trial. I told Alice so.

"Oh, c'mon, Jazz!" she giggled. "Win it for me, please?" She batted her eyelashes.

"So I'm guaranteed to win, then?" Alice was blessed with the ability to see the outcome of certain events, much like a psychic or a seer. There were many names for it, but my special favorite was oracle – Alice was my petite Oracle, and only mine.

"Na-uh," she shook her head. "I can't say that! At least try, will you?"

Sighing mock dejectedly, I crossed the room, sat down in front of the coffee table and positioned my arm appropriately. Emmett was already waiting, and so the moment I clasped his hand, I knew I was in for a fight. I didn't let it show in my face though. I didn't let my fear and nervousness show every time I went to battle, and I'm definitely not going to let anything show for this silly game of arm wrestling.

As to no surprise, Emmett won the competition, but I got one over him when I hid the TV Guide amongst Edward's extensive CD collection. Neither of my brothers had the time to pay me attention, which was a good thing. Emmett was in a deep conversation about the child with Rosalie, while Edward was pacing up and down the length of the room. It was an annoying habit of his, actually.

"I'm sorry," Edward said immediately, and I felt slightly embarrassed at being caught. "I'm not trying to bother anyone. It's just…" He glanced helplessly at the sleeping girl.

"I know what you're feeling," I said slowly. "I simply don't know the reasons behind it, but who am I to delve into people's minds? That's your job, Edward." His face broke into a quirky grin, an expression rarely seen by the family – an expression rarely seen by anyone, actually.

"I found the girl, Jasper," he said after the smile slipped off of his face. "I don't know why I'm worried. I think it has something to do with the fact that I was the one who brought her here."

"Like a Savior Syndrome?" I suggested. "You saved her. It's understandable if you're worried."

Edward nodded thoughtfully. "Of course," he added, "it would help considerably if her blood wasn't as strong as it is. Can't you smell it, Jasper? It's very sweet… very tempting, very alluring…" He trailed off, his gaze longingly trailed on the child. His tongue flicked between his lips. And then he growled, ran his hand through his hair and restarted his pacing.

I watched on with worry. "Edward," I said, confused, "her blood smells normal to me. Are you sure you're not just imagining it?"

"Oh, I'm sure," he said, smiling snidely. "I didn't tell Carlisle about this because I knew it would just distract him. I want him to focus on the girl. Still, I'm worried. I'm not sure if I can control myself."

"Hey," I tried to raise his spirits, both with my words and with my powers. "You didn't attack her on your way here, right? You must be stronger than you think. In fact, you _are_ stronger than you think."

Happy with my words, I seated myself beside my wife and took her hand, leaving Edward to think by himself. I had a feeling that this night was going to be a long night – longer than it usually was. Perhaps the little girl would wake up soon. I hope the little girl would wake up soon, just to solve the mystery of her identity, and perhaps to figure out why her scent was driving Edward crazy. Everyone for sure was eager to know. Events like this rarely happen to any family, let alone a family made up of vampires.

**A/N: Okay, it doesn't take a child of Athena to figure out who the rescued girl is. Three guesses who? ;D Next chapter will be her waking up, so keep reading if you want to find out.**

**=]**

**PS. It's barely related to the plot or anything, but the book Alice is reading comes from the Night World series by L.J. Smith. She happens to be the same author of Vampire Diaries. Just think you ought to know.**


	3. The Hellhound

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 2

"There on the rocks just above us was a black hound the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers." – _Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief_, page 124

**BPOV**

_"I can't believe you won second place again. Always second, always second, but never first! I simply don't know what I did wrong with you, Bella."_

Though I haven't seen my mother since the night of the competition, the night where I won first runner-up in the Little Miss Sunshine Beauty Pageant, I could still her shrill voice berating me for my shortcomings. We were in the car, driving home. I was still dressed for the pageant. I remember holding the pretty ribbon that said I came in second place. I lost that when I ran from the car and into the darkness.

Into the darkness. Yeah right. After Renee, that's my mother's name, parked the car in front of the apartment block our apartment was in, I had rushed outside and ran towards a random direction. That random direction happened to be the McDonald's restaurant, so it wasn't really darkness. I met darkness, however, when I turned a wrong corner (ignoring Renee's cries of my name) and found myself in an alleyway.

I mean, I was sick and tired of her gripes. If possible, I prefer to never see her face again. It's not that I hate her, because I don't. She just annoys me – a lot. I suppose my mother and I weren't compatible. How backwards does that sound? Not being compatible with my own mother…

"She's stirring," a soft, angelic voice was saying. I frowned. I did not like having my contemplations interrupted. There were more muffled murmurs, but I couldn't make out any of them. I suppose I'm still delirious from sleep.

Sleep. I was asleep. Should I wake up? I thought I fell asleep behind that dumpster… How come I wasn't shivering from the cold of the night?

Slowly, I opened my eyes. They were heavy for some reason. At first I saw nothing, and then I categorized that nothing as dark nothing. It was dark everywhere, which was not a surprise since I realized I was in someone's living room in the middle of the night (judging from the position of the crescent moon outside).

"Hey," the same angelic voice sounded from somewhere in the dark. I snapped my head around and came face to face with a, well, face. "I'm Rosalie and I'm glad that you're awake," the person said gently. "My family and I have been taking care of you while you were ill. Thankfully, your fever broke hours ago, so you're fine right now."

I blinked, processing what the woman – Rosalie – was saying. It was hard to concentrate seeing as the woman was very, very pretty. She somehow reminded me of my mom, but was even more beautiful. Who has hair as long and golden as hers? I thought only princesses in movies and stories had hair like that. And her eyes, they were a mesmerizing shade of topaz. Was it even possible to have eyes like that?

"Hey, are you okay? You're not hurting, are you?" Rosalie was asking. Her hand touched my hair lightly before adjusting the blankets around me. Instead of saying 'I'm fine', silly me had to open my mouth and say something completely stupid.

"You're pretty."

"Oh, well thank you," Rosalie ducked her head in embarrassment. "You're very pretty as well, you know. You have a pretty dress, too."

At that, I raised an eyebrow. I was ten, not three.

"You mean this old thing I made my mom buy over the pink fluffy explosion she called a dress?" I asked rhetorically. "Yeah, sure; it's pretty if you like dresses. I certainly don't."

Rosalie's eyebrows furrowed. "If you don't like them, then why are you wearing one?"

Shrugging, I explained to her how Renee forced me, ever since I was able to recite and memorize properly without sounding fake, into these beauty pageants. Apparently, it was for someone to see me perform and, after being amazed by my musical talents, the person can admit me to one of those prodigy schools of arts.

"It sounds like your mother loves you very much if she wants you to have a good education," commented Rosalie. By now the lights were on, and I noticed that there were other people in the room, deeply asleep. A teenage couple was sleeping side by side on the two-seater recliner, while a heavily muscled man was on his side, head lolling off the sofa in a painful angle.

"I guess so," I said slowly. It never really occurred to me that Renee valued my education, simply because she dragged me from my studies to practice this song or whatever for pageants. As a ten year old kid, I shouldn't be worrying about studies, I know. But I have to, seeing as I found it difficult to maintain my D average. Dyslexia does that to people. It gives them Ds for grades and Ibasella for first names.

"So this mother of yours, where is she?" Rosalie, it seemed, was bent on grilling information out of me.

"Probably at home in bed," was my answer.

"And why aren't you at home?" In the space of a second, Rosalie the angel was replaced by Rosalie the demanding authority figure. I'm going to call this alter ego Rosalie the tyrant. I have been lulled into this comfortable ease as I talked with Rosalie the angel, that it had completely slipped my mind that Rosalie, if not someone from her family, found me asleep behind the dumpster.

If I was awake then, that would've been one awkward encounter.

Not knowing what else to do, I avoided the question. "I'm not at home because I'm here, duh." I rolled my eyes to add to the effect.

"My brother found you in a dumpster," Rosalie exclaimed, hands on her hips. I glanced cautiously at the sleeping people in the room. I wonder which male was her brother: the blond one or the muscular one. I think it was the blond one. They share the same hair, after all.

"Don't you think," Rosalie the tyrant continued, "that you ought to be worried that you're not at home safe in your bed? Think of the dangers you could be in if Edward hadn't found you! You could've died from pneumonia for one thing, or worse! You could've been kidnapped, raped and beaten up until your bones feel like spaghetti! I –"

"Actually, I was behind a dumpster, not _in_ one," I corrected offhandedly, distracted. It didn't really sink into my mind that I was interrupting Rosalie's tirade. There was something about the positions of the people sleeping that was… odd. Like it was planned, or trying too hard to look normal. Honestly, who was the brown haired guy kidding? Never in a million years would he have fallen asleep in that position.

"Behind a –" Rosalie visibly bit back an irritated scream and stamped her foot. "I'm getting Carlisle," she said as a parting greeting.

I whistled. Wow, she wasn't the type to handle ten year old children very well. I was only correcting her. And who was Carlisle?

I found out who Carlisle was about half a minute later. He was a man in his early twenties with platinum blond hair carefully styled back. He was wearing a loose button up shirt tucked underneath grey tailored pants, which was strange since it was the middle of the night. Shouldn't he be wearing his sleep clothes?

"Hello, my name is Carlisle," he said as he sat down on the coffee table. He was position conveniently in my view, and I in his. "Do you think you can tell me your name?"

I didn't feel like antagonizing the man, so instead of replying with "Yes, I can tell you my name," I simply complied. I told him my name. "Bella," I answered softly. Something about this man simply exuded respect. Perhaps it was his posture, or maybe the way he had strode into the room, head help high. "My full name is Isabella, but I prefer to be called Bella."

"Well then, Bella," Carlisle smiled. "We seem to have ourselves in a pickle, have we? Edward, Rosalie's brother and my son, found you behind a dumpster, right?" I nodded dumbly. "Do you know how you got there in the first place?" Another nod. "Care to share it with me?"

And so I told him how I got behind the dumpster. I told him how cold and hungry I was, how tired and scared. My mother was nowhere to be seen, and I didn't know how to get to her – didn't want to get to her. The only people out in the streets were the queer kind, and I didn't want to be taken advantage of because of my age. I've seen the Home Alone series. The bad guys go after Makaulay for no reason other than just by being in there (and defending the place from them, but that's neither here nor there). I chose to not tell Carlisle about the shadow following me as I turned into the alleyway. Even to my ears, it sounded foolish and childish.

Shadows that weren't yours simply don't follow you into alleyways.

"So it was just tonight that you ran from your mother?"

"Actually, that was two nights ago."

Carlisle frowned and, after sharing a look with Rosalie (who was back to her angel persona), continued interrogating me. "And you ran because you got second place in the Little Miss Sunshine pageant?" he asked.

"No," I shook my head. "I ran because I'm tired of my mother's whining about how I always get second place. I don't really care about these competitions. I think them fake and shallow."

"That's a wise thing to say, Bella," Carlisle gave me a sharp, approving nod. "But you shouldn't have run away like that. Do you know your home address? Perhaps tomorrow my wife and I can drive you back. I'm sure no matter how many misunderstanding you have with your mother, she would be worried and scared about you. You've been gone for some time."

I lowered my eyes and pretended to be thinking about my home address. I really was thinking, but about something completely different. That is, how should I break it to the man that I didn't want to go back home?

Steeling myself, I looked up and answered, "No."

That took him by surprise.

"No, I don't know my home address," I clarified. "It was rainbow something, something, blah street. Anyway, I have no plans of going home. My mom's currently dating this slob of a man, who isn't really a slob since he's a neat freak. I mean, even the broom closet smells like disinfectant!" I prattled on about Bill, enjoying myself a little bit as the corner of Carlisle's eyes tightened in irritation.

"Bella, you're mom's boyfriend is hardly a reason why you can't go home," he tried to reason.

But I wasn't listening, because at that exact moment, there was that familiar growling sound again. It came from outside the room. I stiffened, knowing full well what that growling sound was. It belonged to that shadow – that _thing_ – chasing me. Though I should be frightened to death, I wondered why a thing that growls would be chasing little ol' me.

"Right," I exclaimed, making my decision. I jumped up and kicked away the covers to free my legs. Now, I was ready to run for my life. "Bill's an okay guy," I said to Carlisle, who seemed slightly flustered by my actions. I couldn't blame the man.

"He is?" Rosalie asked, as equally confused as her father.

"He's not really the reason why I don't want to go back. That, however, is," I jerked my thumb towards the general area from which the growling was coming from. "I need to go. Thank you for your hospitality, and thank you for trying to convince me to come back home. But I can't. Renee doesn't deserve this."

And with that said, I ran.

It was not the most intelligent thing to do, but it was probably the best thing I could've ever done. I didn't know what would happen to Carlisle and Rosalie and their sleeping family if I stayed. The _thing_ would get to me and do who knows what – kill me? Gobble me up like some monster? Anyway, as I punched the down button for the elevator, I prayed to anyone listening that I can get to a safe place before the shadow catches me.

Fifteen minutes, a billion and one stories, a couple of wrong turns and one lost shoe later, I found myself cowering in a corner as a handsome, red-haired boy battled the thing. Closer, I realized that it was a hideous looking creature, not quite a shadow anymore. It somehow resembles a rabid dog – only much bigger.

And scarier.

It had red eyes. Eyes redder than my blush when I get embarrassed, redder than the red M&Ms I eat every Saturday afternoon with my mom, redder than the skies at sunset. The eyes were as red as hot molten lava. I thought it was the scariest thing I could ever see, but then I saw its fangs. They were razor sharp and were like daggers as they curved down over its lower lip.

The creature was strong and very skilled in fighting, but then so was the boy. And, he had a sword – a breathtaking sword at that. His grunts and shouts of effort proved that he was fighting for his life. He was fighting for my life, too. Finally, the dog creature dropped to the ground, unmoving. Then it disintegrated, dissolving into a pile of dust and was gone, scattered by the wind in the blink of an eye.

And all that excitement happened as I cowered in a corner wishing I was anywhere else but in this alley, witnessing this deranged yet handsome boy fight an equally deranged but not exactly handsome rabid dog thing.

"Are you… all… right?" the boy gasped between breaths. He walked over to me, dragging the tip of his sword on the cement ground. Sparks flew, illuminating the dark alleyway. I didn't know why, but I seem to be finding myself in alleyways all the time. I should really avoid them. Things that were really rabid dogs with sharp fangs and red eyes tend to follow me here.

"I'm fine," I said. I stood up and tried to help the boy, allowing him to sit down on some cardboard boxes. I stifled a giggle as the boxes gave way due to his weight.

"Oh," the boy grunted, "think this is funny?"

"Well, yes," I said simply. "Yes, I do."

The boy rolled his eyes. "So this is the thanks I get for killing that hellhound for you. Gee, Frank, why do you go to all this trouble just to save a cute girl?"

I blushed. This handsome boy thought I was cute? He was older than me! Wait, didn't he think I have cooties or something? Because Ollie from my third grade class says all girls had cooties. Too busy I was thinking about cooties, I missed what the boy said about the dog monster – the hellhound.

"I'm sorry," was all I was able to say. Well, that plus my name. The boy, Frank, commented how my name was Italian for beauty, and I blushed again.

"So," he said, standing up. Apparently, he was finished recovering from the fight. "Bella, do you know why that monster of a hellhound was after you?" His tone was serious, leaving no room for a joke or a funny quip.

"So it really was a monster," I said softly. "I was half thinking it was all my imagination."

"Oh yeah, it was a monster, all right." Frank scratched his head. "It was a hellhound, particularly nasty creatures. I hate it when they slobber all over my sword. So, do you know why it was chasing you or not?"

I shook my head.

"Hah, well, Bella…" Frank clapped me on the back and began leading me up the fire escape, most likely to his place. I didn't feel uneasy or anything, mostly because I trusted him. He did save my life after all. "Let me explain to you about Camp Half-Blood and how special kinds of people are allowed to go to that camp. You see, it all begins with the Greek gods and their uncontrollable urges. You're about eleven years old, right? I think you know what I'm talking about…"

**A/N: Okay, Bella being the girl was sort of predictable. But hey, gotta introduce her in the story sometime ;D Please review.**


	4. My Mother, Renee

**A/N: *peeks through the window and waves* Hi, here I am! First and foremost, thanks to all who reviewed in the last chapter. I appreciate the support. To answer your question Lady Lily of Darkness: Frank will be important in the story, yes. Anywho, heeeere's the third chappie! Yay!**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 3

**7 years later**

Renee finally snapped. It appears that receiving a letter from the principal on New Year's Day was the last straw for her.

It happened this morning when a letter from my school, Sacagawea High, came in through the mail. As I was an early riser, I saw it drop from the mail slot onto the carpeted floor. Unfortunately, I was not the only early riser in the room. My mother Renee was one, too.

"It's a letter from your school," Renee said, eyebrows raised – not in surprise, but in mild curiosity. I couldn't blame her. The last time I got a letter from school, it was just a few months ago. The funny thing was that it wasn't from Sacagawea High. It was from another school, the school I attended for my sophomore year. The letter contained a very, very detailed explanation as to why I was expelled. Apparently, it was my fault that the girl's bathroom on the fourth floor was completely trashed.

I wanted to badly to tell them it was the Minotaur's fault, but something told me no one would've believed me. I was really angry when I got expelled for a crime I didn't commit, but in the end, I got the last laugh. Said Minotaur was dead because of me. I killed it. Served him right for attacking me between third and fourth period.

"Oh. What does it say?" I tried to not let too much interest show in my voice. Who could blame me? I wanted to know if it was an expulsion letter or not. If so, then it would be my third time in a row. Ever since I came back to live with Renee when I was fourteen, each and every school she had sent me to, I always got expelled. And all because some monster tries to send me six feet under.

When will the monsters ever learn? Do not mess with demigods.

Yes, I'm a demigod. Well, a demigoddess, but who cares about that slight technicality? My mother's a mortal and my father's an Olympian – as in, one of the Greek gods Olympian. It's pretty serious stuff. The only down part was that I have no clue who my father is. Renee hadn't got a clue. As far as she knew, my father was some racecar driver who knocked her up during a summer fling.

"Well, the letter is both good new and bad news," said Renee. She put the letter down and, when I reached for it, slapped my hand away. She then cupped her mug and took a sip of her herbal tea. I rolled my eyes and focused on my cereal. Renee would tell me in time. I mean, I had the right to know if I was expelled or not.

Seconds passed. Minutes passed. I couldn't wait anymore. My stupid ADHD was making me uneasy. "_Mom_," I only addressed Renee as 'mom' whenever I wanted something. "What does the letter say?"

Renee frowned, swished her herbal tea around the cup, drank it, and then folded her arms. She then stared at me with those piercing eyes that mothers always have. It was their only weapon against delinquent children like me, the ones who actually like spending time in their room so a good grounding can never apply. Meanwhile, I squirmed in my seat.

"It says that you're expelled," she stated. Her tone of voice told me that that was the bad news.

So the faculty had found a way to tie me to the catastrophe that was the Auditorium Incident, as I had taken to calling it. That was smart of them. I thought I had covered my tracks. At any rate…

"And the good news?" I prompted. From upstairs, loud thumping sounds that were Charlotte and Charlene's footfalls from the attic told me that the twins were awake. I managed to control my grimace in time. Those girls simply get under my skin. They were far too girly for my tastes. They really were Renee's prefect daughters, the one who actually _enjoy_ entering beauty pageants and actually _win_ first place. Unlike me, the pageant hater and second placer.

"Well, the news is good for me, not for you," said Renee.

I appeared unperturbed. "Which is?"

"You're moving to Forks," she said, and at that same moment, Charlene burst through the kitchen's swing door shouting a loud "Good morning" for people all the way in Greece to here. And since we were living in Phoenix, Arizona in _America_, it was one great feat.

"Who's moving to Forks?" asked Charlotte, trudging after her sister.

"Ooh, is it Bella?" squealed Charlene. I glared at her. Charlene was, as most people will say, the epitome of beauty, though I beg to differ – really. With her shaggy blonde hair, crystal blue eyes and button nose, Charlene was one pretty six year old. But clearly, she holds no candle to Aphrodite, or any of the other goddesses for that matter.

"Oh, Bella's leaving!" cried Charlotte. "I don't want her to leave! She was supposed to teach me how to play the ukulele!" Charlotte, like Charlene, had shaggy blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. I suppose it helped that they were identical twins.

"Whoa, hold up here a minute," I exclaimed, raising a hand so that the two girls to quiet down. "_Bella_ is right here," I glared at the two. At Renee, I hissed, "And what do you mean I'm moving to Forks? Are you throwing me out?" Unknowingly, I was already on my feet.

How could she? I was just expelled, not arrested. Believe me, I know the difference. There was that time in Jacksonville when I spent an entire week in prison. Not the Jacksonville, Florida in which Renee and her family, and therefore I, used to live in half a year ago, but the Jacksonville in North Carolina. However, that's a story for another time.

"Bella, please look at this in my perspective," reasoned Renee. "This is the third time in three years that you have been expelled from school. I simply do not know what to do with you; you're bad influence on my little angels."

I wanted so much to glare at said 'little angels' but I knew that if I did, I wouldn't just be moving to Forks. I'd be moving to Forks _right now_. Renee would toss me out of the house before I can say Camp Half-Blood.

"I've told you time and again that if you do not straighten up," Renee continued her tirade, "I would have to take drastic measures. Consider you moving in to live with Charlie as me taking drastic measures."

"So instead of being the loving mother and just ground me or take away my stereo for a few months," I deadpanned, "you've decided to kick my sorry ass out." Renee gave me a piercing look for my language in front of the kids.

"I'm not kicking you out," she said. "I'm just… handing you over to Charlie. He misses you, and I know you miss him. He might not be your real father, but he might as well be. He raised you, didn't he?"

"Yeah," I snorted. "Until I was five. You dragged me off with you when you left Forks."

Charlie, poor soul, thought that I was his daughter. I mean, Renee did tell him that she was pregnant with his child when she found out that she had missed a couple of periods. By then, summer was over and my father, whoever he is, was gone. Back to Olympus, probably.

Perhaps he was one of those minor gods that didn't bother in claiming their children. Ever since Percy Jackson had asked (more like scammed) the gods into claiming their half-blood children before the age of thirteen, demigods were popping out from odd places. Some were even from other countries besides America. Or, perhaps my father was Hermes, since I bunk up in his cabin – Hermes was kind enough to let all of the undetermined half-bloods stay in his cabin – but I have a strong feeling that he wasn't my father. For one thing, I couldn't steal anything to save my life – literally. However, living with Hermes' children had taught me a few trade secrets.

Still, I look up to Charlie as some sort of father-figure. He was cool. I used to spend one months of my summers with him – that is, until I ran away when I was ten. After Frank, the closest thing I have to a best friend, saved me and introduced me to the world of monsters, gods and celestial bronze weapons, I was instantly whisked off to Camp Half-Blood. I stayed there full time for a couple of years, only coming out for certain missions or when I craved for some real Coke. Anyway, I miss Charlie. I suppose it would do me some good to spend a couple of months with him before I go to Camp again this summer.

"I've already talked to Charlie about it," said Renee softly as she prepared the twin's breakfast. "I knew something like this was going to happen. He says he'd be glad to keep you for the rest of the school year. I'll call him later to organize your transcripts."

I dreaded the idea of living in Forks, a small town that doesn't even place on the map of Washington State. And, it was the farthest point possible from New York, where Olympus happened to be located on the 600th floor of the Empire State Building and where Camp Half-Blood was located off Long Island. It was like leaving home. But, knowing that my leaving was inevitable, I finished the last morsels of my breakfast and locked myself in my room.

I pretty much ignored everyone for the rest of the day. Phil, the twins' father and my step-father, tried at one point to trick me out, like I'm some sort of pest hiding in a crevice. I told him to mind his own business and cranked my music louder. Renee hated loud music, so my listening to The All American Reject's 'Gives You Hell' had a triple purpose: annoy my mother twice over for the loudness and the vulgarity, and to drown out the sounds of people knocking on my door.

The next couple of days, seeing as I was expelled, I spent mostly in my room. I listened to music, played music, packed my things, unpacked my things, listened to music some more, and then did more repacking. Finally, five days after Renee had broken the news of my expulsion, she strolled into my room and unplugged my stereo right out of its socket.

"You're now officially a student of Forks High School," she announced, smiling.

I raised an eyebrow. "And I care… why?"

Her smile dropped. "Bella," she sighed, "I'm doing this for your own good. Please try and behave this time, all right?"

I didn't bother trying to explain to her that I do try to behave. It's not my fault that monsters attack me every time I get settled in some new school. Of course, Renee knew no such thing about the clandestine world of the Olympian gods. She was harebrained and sometimes immature, sometimes unpredictable, and I couldn't as well trust her with such an important a secret as that.

Renee sighed again and moved to leave my room. She dawdled a little bit at the doorway, and though she wasn't in my view, I knew she was watching me. "Look," she said, "I'm sorry for doing this. I know how it might look for you, but it's for the best. Like I said, it's for your own good."

Yeah Renee? Was it the best for me, or was it the best for you? You just don't want me around to ruin your perfect little family. I'm sorry that I can't live up to Charlene and Charlotte's reputations; I'm sorry for not being your idealized role model for them. I'm sorry that I couldn't be your perfect first child. I mean, there was no such thing as perfect. Even the gods themselves weren't perfect, and they popularized classical perfection.

I've wasted my breath before trying to make my mother understand. I wasn't even going to bother anymore.

"All right then," she said. And just when I thought she finally left, Renee spoke again. "I've already booked your tickets. You're leaving two days from now, so I suggest you pack all the things you need to pack. Don't forget your toothbrush. You know what happened last time when we moved form Jacksonville."

My face twisted into a mocking grimace. "Now that I'm leaving you, why are you trying to mother me now, Renee?" I mouthed derisively. "Don't forget my toothbrush…" I scoffed. "Please."

I didn't need her to remind me. I can take care of myself. I've been doing just that ever since I was five, when I was forced to leave behind the only reliable adult I knew in Forks.

With a frustrated groan, I punched my pillow multiple times to release my pent up emotions. I couldn't wait for summer to come by.

**A/N: Bella is being the typical teenager, so sorry if I've painted Renee in a bad light. She's not a bad mother, just one that doesn't know how to handle one like Bella (hello, demigoddess!). Anyway, next chapter will be in Forks and Bella's first day of school. Spoiler alert: she'll meet a fellow half-blood. Care to guess who?**

**=D**


	5. Meeting a Fellow Camper

**A/N: I had fun reading all the guesses for who could be the other half-blood in Forks. Sadly, none of you guessed right. Now, now: no cheating by peeking at the end of the chapter. All will be revealed in due time ;D**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 4

Darn, I forgot my toothbrush. I should've listened to Renee. Why didn't I pack that annoying little thing after I used it last night? I was most likely too tired to have actually bothered to tuck it inside a pocket of my carry on bag, but hey, it wasn't entirely my fault. Renee had to schedule the flight from Phoenix to Seattle at three in the morning. I was an early riser, but waking up a few hours after midnight was just plain torture.

I had half the mind to forget about the plane ticket and just commute all the way to Forks, all for the purpose of getting a lie in, but then I was discouraged immediately. The thought of encountering the many monsters on the way was just daunting. No matter how many times I battled a monster and won, it was still a very scary thought to encounter one. I didn't win all the time – sometimes I was just plain lucky to come out alive.

That was the life of a demigod. Or a hero, as we are occasionally called.

It was a four hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, a two hour wait for the next flight to Port Angeles, which in turn had taken an hour, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. I've never flown anywhere before, but after a quick prayer of request to keep my flight safe to Zeus, the god of the skies, I found that there wasn't much to fear when you're thousands of feet high in the air.

"Bella, are you all right in there?" Charlie asked, tapping his knuckles on the half-opened bathroom door. The only thing that sucked about living with Charlie, as far as I could think of, was that we have to share bathrooms.

"I'm fine, Ch – Dad." I smiled and lifted my toiletry bag, "I just forgot my toothbrush is all." I wasn't allowed to address Charlie by his first name, mainly because he had no idea he wasn't my real father, and also because it would be impolite.

"Well, in that case," he said, scratching the side of his face, "I have a spare somewhere. You can buy yourself a new one tomorrow after school." He turned to leave, but paused and said, "You _do_ know where the nearest convenience store is around here, right?"

I laughed. "Of course; I might not have been here since I was ten, but I'd like to think my memory's that good. Besides, there's only one Thriftway here, right?"

"Oh," Charlie blushed. He was smiling, so I suppose he wasn't that embarrassed. "I knew that. Well, you're free to do whatever you want: unpack, roam around the town, listen to that raucous music of yours, but just make sure you're safe, all right? I'm gonna head out to Billy's place at the rez."

I nodded and assured him that I would be safe. Besides, I had no plans of leaving the house's perimeter – explore the front and back lawn for a secluded practice ground if I had enough time after unpacking, but that's about the extent of it. After telling Charlie that I was glad to be here, I thus began the search for my new toothbrush.

Silly elusive thing tormented me for about half an hour before I found it inside the medicine cabinet. I had to turn the entire household upside down. On the plus side, I found the dusty VHS collection of Disney movies Charlie, Renee and I used to watch way back when.

The next day, I was up earlier than usual since school here began an hour earlier than Sacagawea High. I didn't mind, because that meant I was able to witness the sun rise. It was a mighty scene to behold. For once, the overcast skies of Forks were – well, not overcast. I knew it would be unreasonable for me to wish that the clouds would just disappear for the rest of the day, but I really did hope that it will. Just for my first day of school, at least.

I stretched as I pushed myself off the wall, happy to have seen the beautiful rays of sun dance around the many leaves of the trees in the surrounding forest. Mindful that Charlie was most likely still asleep, I turned on my stereo and adjusted to volume to the lowest audible level and began my morning routine. The first thing I ever do was make my bed to wake my body up, and then I have to prepare my clothes for the day and bring it with me to the bathroom. It would be mortifying if Charlie ever sees me clad in only a towel.

"Bella, are you decent?"

I spun around in shock, my eyes darting to the door. Charlie's head was popped inside, eyes tightly shut. It made even clearer the obvious crows feet around his eyes. I also noticed that he hadn't shaved for the day yet and that his moustache was unruly. He must've just walked out of bed.

"I'm okay, Dad," I said, confused. "What's wrong?"

Charlie straightened up and entered the room fully, opening the door wide so that the air can circulate. "Nothing to worry about," he said, yawning. "I just wasn't sure if you liked lie ins or not. I was _supposed_ to wake you up and tell you to prepare for school, but I can see you're way ahead of me."

"I think it should be me telling you to wake up and get ready for work," I replied dryly. I eyed his sleepwear with mock admonishment. "It's already after sunrise and you're still not ready, Mr. Chief of Police? The early bird gets the worm, you know."

"Yeah, yeah…" Charlie rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna make breakfast," he grumbled. "Hope you like burnt toast and dry cereal."

I followed Charlie about half an hour later, freshly clean and ready for my upcoming day. I was wearing a unisex dark grey t-shirt with Camp Half-Blood's logo on the front, tied into a knot behind me so that it fit better. For pants I chose to wear my faded blue jeans that flared at the bottom, covering the back half of my Nike shoes. They were faded for a reason, seeing as I've worn them nearly every other week. They were my favorite pair, having sown onto them two long, thin pockets for my drumsticks.

Yes, I play the drums. I won't say that I'm a prodigy at it, but hitting the drums (or anything, for that matter) whenever I feel hyper was a good way to relieve the excess energy. And I feel hyper all of the time because of my ADHD. Since it wasn't really ADHD but battle ready energy, the hyperactivity hadn't really calmed through the years.

My drumsticks, however, weren't just meant to be used as sticks to hit drum sets. They were especially made for me by Milo, a certain son of Hephaestus, after I lost considerably to him in a swordfight. My strength was with the bow and arrow, and so fighting with a sword usually means a certain defeat for ol' me. But, good friend that he is, Milo informed me about the importance of close contact fighting and then gifted me on my thirteenth birthday a very special pair of knives: a heavy saxe knife and a short throwing knife. They were special in the way that they can be transformed into a pair of drumsticks for camouflage, and vice versa.

I was distraught to hear the news of his death a day after the Battle with Kronos and his army. That was two years ago. Milo died with bravery and honor, and his friends will never forget him.

"Wow Bella," Charlie commented as I sat down on front of him, stealing a piece of triangular toast from his plate. "You look nice."

I took a bite of the buttered toast, chewed, and then smiled around it. It was burnt and tasted awful. "Only the best for my first day of school," I said.

My first day of school and I was beginning at the middle of the semester. Not only will I get some attention as the daughter of the Police Chief's flighty ex-wife returned, but I would also be gossiped about whether why I chose to move school between semesters. As a junior who was supposed to be getting ready for college, that's a stupid move to make. Well, I could always blame Renee for kicking me out.

Once breakfast was done, I volunteered to wash the dishes, much to Charlie's delight. The extra time allowed him to just sit back and catch a few z's before heading for work.

"All right, Dad," I said as I was donning on my hoodie jacket. It was a plaid pattern of red and black. "I'm going to head off. Don't want to be late, you know…"

I was halfway out the door when Charlie's shout made me stop. "Wait, Bells!" he cried. He then bounded after me, a wide smile on his face. I was puzzled by his uncharacteristic behavior – Charlie wasn't the type to bound after people.

"What's up, Dad?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I just wanted you to have this." He then handed to me what looked like a set of keys. Looking closer, I realized that it _was_ a set of keys, with a small keychain pepper spray attached. I thought it was for the locks of the front and back doors, but then I realized that there was one key particular…

I blinked and took an involuntary intake of breath. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Depends on what you're thinking," quipped Charlie. That wide smile was still on his face. "Well," he said, impatient at my lack of obvious reaction. "Do you like it? It's your homecoming present, if you will. I didn't have much of an allowance, but I couldn't resist splurging some money for my lovely daughter. I just want you to be comfortable here, Bella."

That brought tears to my eyes, strengthening the fact that though Charlie might not be the one who fathered me, but he was still my father. He was my father in all things but blood. He didn't have to get me a car, but he did, even though he was strapped for cash.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. I wrapped my arms around him in a hug. "You don't know how much this means to me. The truck's perfect. It's the perfect homecoming present."

It really did warm my heart to think as Forks as my home, as coming back to this sleepy town to live permanently, a thing I haven't done since I was five years old. And to spend some quality time with Charlie? I haven't done that in ages. After I began living with Renee again, Charlie had only visited for two weeks during the summer before he had to go back home and I to Camp Half-Blood.

I said goodbye to Charlie before hopping into the rusty orange-y red truck. It had big round fenders and a bulbous cab, reminding me somewhat of a pathetic, wide-eyed puppy. Suffice to say, I fell in love with it. The first thing I did before driving away was to check the glove compartment, which thankfully was full of my favorite CDs. Thank the gods for Charlie's consideration. I loved listening to music, especially when driving.

The second thing I did was to pump up the heater. Silly me had forgotten to buy a coat for the freezing Forks weather, and all I have was my flimsy hoodie. It wasn't as if it was at the forefront of my mind as I was packing my clothes back in Phoenix. It was hot, dry desert in Arizona. It didn't occur to me that it would be freezing here in Forks. Cold, yes. Rainy, definitely. Freezing? Didn't cross my mind at all.

I drove for a couple of minutes, wandering aimlessly and just looking at the sights to see (there was forest everywhere, and I knew now the exact location of that convenience store), before I saw that I only had about fifteen minutes before classes began. Luckily, Forks High was easy enough to spot, and I parked in the only available parking space.

"Hi, I've never seen you around here before," greeted an enthusiastic girl with frizzy brown hair and a well-concealed zit on her chin. She was leaning on the purple van parked beside mine, surrounded by her small group of friends.

"Nice ride," one of the guys, who had coffee colored skin and a bright smile, commented. For some particular reason, this annoyed the girl with the zit on her chin.

"Er, thanks?" I hauled my book bag over my shoulder. "I'm a new student," I said to the girl, "so you probably never saw me before."

"Oh, so you're Isabella, then!" She grinned widely and clasped her hands together. "I've heard so much about you from my mom, who has these weekly dinners with Angela's mom," she pointed at a quiet girl with framed glasses, "who happens to be the sister of the Police Chief's deputy's husband. I mean, I practically know all about you already!"

Huh, nice try, mortal. I bet you don't know me at all. Hello? Daughter of an Olympian god here!

"Er…" was all I was able to say. Thankfully, the bell rang and the group scattered to wherever it was they were supposed to go, leaving me alone to trek up to the school's administrative office to claim my timetable and a map of the school. Mrs. Cope, the secretary, was a jolly enough lady, though from the way she had peered down at me told me that she thought it was odd that the Police Chief's daughter would come back after twelve years' of absence.

Yeah, I thought it was odd, too. I was halfway through my junior year, and it really was unfortunate that I got expelled.

"Oh, there you are, Isabella!" I jumped about fifteen meters high in the air when the frizzy haired girl with the zit on her chin came out at me from nowhere. "I'm Jessica, we met in the parking lot just this morning?" She was way too cheery for my tastes, but I swallowed my irritation and forced myself to smile.

"Please," I said, "call me Bella. Isabella's too formal."

"Whew," Jessica laughed, looking relieved. "Thank you, Bella! You're name's kind of a mouthful, you know. Just like mine, right? Jessica… Most of my friends call me Jess, but Tyler calls me Jessie on the side, if you know what I mean." She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. She prattled on about one thing or another as she led me to my first class of the morning, which fortunately we didn't share.

The rest of the morning was pretty much normal, aside from that one time I stumbled over a passage when one teacher asked me to read something from the board. So by lunchtime, everyone in the two hundred and something student populace knew that I was dyslexic. I heaved a sigh. It was Sacagawea High all over again, and Preston High before that, and some other high school I forgot the name of before that…

I didn't know what I was thinking, hoping that this time no one would know that I was dyslexic. I suppose holding out that no one would figure out that I had ADHD as well was going to be pointless. I already spaced out eight times in three different lessons, and basically ignored a handful of the students who approached me because the blue sky above was more interesting.

"Hey Bella, come sit over us!" Jessica shouted the moment I entered the cafeteria. I complied and took the seat beside the quiet girl, Angela. When I sat down, she looked up from her novel and smiled.

Wow, she has pretty gray eyes, I thought. The girl reminded me of Annabeth, who used to be my fellow full time camper until she began living with her father. Annabeth was the daughter of Athena, so perhaps Angela was a half sister of hers. My eyes glanced down at Angela's neck, hoping to see a beaded necklace like the one I wore. It was a sign that the person wearing it had spent at least one full summer in Camp Half-Blood.

"Bella?" I was shaken from my own little world by Mike, a blond haired guy that somehow reminded me of a golden retriever. He was asking me what I was having for dinner.

"Oh, I'm not really hungry," I gestured to the Coke in my hands. "I had a big breakfast." Which was true. Who knew Charlie could cook up a storm? Maybe being in his lonesome for the last twelve years was good for his culinary skills. Though the toast was burnt and the cereal was dry, the eggs and bacon were delicious.

Mike accepted my answer and, though reluctant to turn away from me, acknowledged Jessica's prodding for conversation. Tyler, the one who commented how nice my car was, was having an intense conversation with Eric about Dungeons and Dragons… or was it World of Warcraft? I didn't really care.

"I see you're wearing the logo," whispered Angela softly.

For the second time today, I jumped fifteen meters up in the air, having been caught in surprise. "Logo?" I choked out, "What logo?"

Angela rolled her eyes. "Don't act dumb," she said. "I know you're a half-blood, your shirt says so." I looked down at my shirt, and realized that I was wearing my Camp Half-Blood t-shirt.

"And how do you know about Camp?" I retorted, feeling – I dunno – embarrassed at being caught. "You must be a half-blood, too, right? Daughter of Athena, I suppose?"

"Yes," Angela nodded. "I've attended camp for about two whole summers. I was all too happy to go for my third, but my dad didn't want me to go. He heard word about a huge fight, a war, between the gods and Kronos. He didn't let me go, no matter how much I had begged."

"Lucky you," I said sadly. I averted my eyes to focus on my Coke. "I was there, you know, when Percy Jackson led us to defend Olympus. I was only fifteen, but I fought the best I can."

"Took down many monsters, I bet."

"If I do say so myself," I chuckled. Then I stopped. "But, I almost died when an empousa came after me. I lost that particular fight, and would've died if it weren't for Connor Stoll, you know him, right?" Angela nodded. "So basically, I was unable to fight for the rest of the battle. The next thing I knew, I was being tended in the Ritz hotel by some kid of Apollo – nice girl, Hannah was – and Connor was out of his mind, excited about being honored by the gods for our heroic deeds. Then Frank, my best friend, was telling me to go home and visit my mother. Anything to get away from New York at the moment."

"Sounds like you had a great time."

I cracked a smile. "Yeah, you could say that."

Despite all the dangers I have faced fighting against Kronos' army, all the injuries and pains, I knew it was worthwhile. Why? Because the world was restored to order, because Zeus was not overthrown and because I moved back in with my mother… that's why.

Well, it was funny to see her face when I turned up halfway through their dinner. I mean, she hadn't seen me since I was ten. I suppose it came as a surprise to me when I saw that she was married again, with two beautiful little girls. I had to admit I was jealous, but hey, all demigods had to deal with half-siblings. It was just they way things were.

Angela and I shared a smile. That smile was not the only thing we shared, though. We were both half-bloods, we both knew what it's like to fight a monster and survive. I have a strong feeling that Angela and I were going to be great friends.

**A/N: Surprised? Or was I too predictable? Anyway, please review! =D**


	6. Heracles and His Labors

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 5

My first week living in Forks was better than I thought it would be. I attended school, made a conscious effort in participating in class, hung out with Angela and her small group of friends, and just generally had fun. I even trained a little bit everyday so that by the time summer came, I wouldn't be rusty for the mock battles I knew I'd be taking part in. It was peaceful in Forks. So peaceful, in fact, that every day for the past seven days, I had watched the sun rise and set. I never got a chance like that when I was living with Renee.

But that's what worried me. The town of Forks was just _too_ peaceful. Being what I was, a half-blood, there was no such thing as too peaceful. There was always trouble, always a fight to fight and a monster to kill. I mean, right after Kronos' army was defeated, another Great Prophecy sprung up. It was just the way life should be.

"Really," I muttered to myself. "No such thing as peace…"

"What was it you said, Bella?" Jessica, who was babbling on about the Sadie Hawkins Dance the school was organizing, stopped in her tracks to question me. She cracked a smile. "Did you say something about the dance? Are you like, excited too? I know _I_ am!"

I had to blink a few times before what she said processed in my ADHD addled brain. "Er, I suppose I am," I began slowly. I was never a fan of dances, discos, balls, or anything of the sort. I hated dancing, mainly because I had two left feet. "Who are you taking?" I asked conversationally. I felt bad that I was ignoring her before.

"Well," Jessica burst into a fit of giggles. I rolled my eyes and caught Angela's amused smile. Her nose was buried deep inside a thick book, though obviously she was listening to her friend talk about the dance. "I was thinking of asking Mike – he and I have this on and off thing going on since freshman year – but have you seen _Tyler_ lately? He's super _duper_ hot…"

I nodded my head vaguely. Personally, I didn't think Tyler was hot, but who cares about my opinion? Besides, I didn't want to offend Jessica and her taste in guys. Tyler was no Adonis, but he wasn't a Hephaestus either.

My first class for the day was English, so when Mr. Mason (a man in his late thirties, signaled by the receding hairline) entered the small classroom, Jessica had to hurriedly leave to make it in time for her own lesson. That is, Spanish. It was a blessing to my ears when Mr. Mason began the lesson, otherwise I would've taken out my saxe knife and threatened Jessica with it if she wouldn't stop talking. All she does was yammer, yammer, yammer… it's pretty damn annoying.

"All right, class," Mr. Mason said, acquiring the attention of everyone seated with his authoritarian voice. "Today we will be learning about…"

Like the textbook half-blood, I zoned out from the lesson and busied myself with the much more interesting patterns of the wooden desk in front of me. The desk in my room was made from wood as well, though Charlie had taken into consideration my accident prone self and covered the thing with thick acetate. It would be just my luck to _still_ get a splinter stuck in my finger even though the desk was covered like that. I groaned, imagining the embarrassment that came along if – not when – I get splintered.

"Ms. Swan," Mr. Mason halted his pacing by the chalkboard to look at me – well, more like glare, "do you have anything against today's topic?" His eyebrows were raised mockingly.

I cleared my throat, buying myself some time. I had no idea what the topic for today was. I scanned the room for help – I didn't know what I was looking for, a pegasi with cue cards draped over its body flying outside the window? Fortunately, the answer came to me in the form of writings on the chalkboard. "N-no sir," I stammered out. "In fact, I'm looking forward to discussing," I read what was written on the board, which was surprisingly easy to read, "Heracles and his Labors."

Mr. Mason's glare slipped away to be replaced by an astonished look. I blinked a couple of times; did I do something wrong? I repeated that question to the person sitting to my right. He was a guy with ear-length blond hair that draped over his head in curls, and when he answered me, he was looking at me in the same way as Mr. Mason was, only he was much more discreet about it.

Apparently, I had translated (unintentionally, might I add) the ancient Greek characters on the board. The teacher had only mentioned discussing tales about demigods in Greek mythology, not the title of that particular topic. Suffice to say, I had dug myself into a hole that I was half afraid I couldn't climb out of.

"Ms. Swan, h-how did you know what it – what did you – just, how?" stuttered Mr. Mason.

"Umm," was my intelligent reply. "I pulled the title out of a hat?" When the man didn't look convinced – I mean, my lie didn't even make sense – I sighed and chose instead to tell a half truth. "Actually, I'm familiar with the tale. My er, friend has a copy of the story and I uh… you know, read it."

The real truth was that Frank didn't have a copy of the book (he was never an avid reader). However, he did retell to me Heracle's tale way back when I was twelve. It was part of the whole familiarize-myself-with-my-newfound-family thing.

"But Bella," interjected Eric, "you're dyslexic. How can you read a book like that?"

"Just because I find it difficult to read doesn't mean I can't," I snapped. Eric flinched and tried to look away, but I did not release my hold on him, so to speak. "If you must know, I listened to an audio book while I read the book. It took me over three months but hey, it's _Heracles_."

"And who is this Hera-cleats guy?" piped up another student, this time a porcelain-skinned blonde whose name escaped me at the moment.

I would've answered and corrected the ignorant girl, but the guy whom I was sitting beside to jumped the gun. "He's a son of Zeus and a well-known hero or demigod. You're probably more familiar with his Roman counterpart, Hercules."

The porcelain-skinned girl gaped at the guy and nodded dumbly. A few seconds passed and the silence spell that had taken over the classroom was broken. Mr. Mason resumed his teaching, the girl turned to face the front again and I, well, I wouldn't say I went back to daydreaming, but I certainly wasn't paying attention to the lecture.

I was in a good mood for the following two lessons. Even Jessica's yammering didn't bother me during Government, and I even encouraged her multiple of times. I knew I'd be regretting it come lunchtime, but I didn't care. A good mood was a good mood and I'd rather not stare a horse's gift in the mouth, or something like that.

Trigonometry class flew by in a blur wherein I just stared off into space. In Spanish class, we learning about something I couldn't quite grasp the concept of, though I have a hunch that it was about food. It was torture, seeing as the lunch bell was scheduled to ring in about half an hour. I mean, how can I pay attention to a topic talking about food in a different language, when in just half an hour's time, the bell will ring to signal lunchtime? Besides, I looked forward to stretching my legs. The walk to the cafeteria wasn't long, but anything was better than sitting behind a desk. They were simply too restricting.

When the bell rang at last, I was one of the first people to leave the room, despite the fact that I sat near the back. I was so focused on making my way to the cafeteria – towards the food – that I missed my name being called.

"Bella, can you even hear me?" A loud tinkling of bells was calling my name. I paused mid-step and something collided with me from the behind. "Oh, sorry," the person apologized. "I didn't mean to walk into you, but you just stopped abruptly there."

"Then it should be me saying sorry," I said. I helped the girl up, because it was a girl who bumped into me, not a brick wall like I presumed. She had short spiky black hair and elfin features, and she was grinning broadly at me. "Hm, I haven't seen you around here before. Are you a new student?" I asked.

"Actually…" The girl giggled. "I think you're the new one around here. You just don't know me because my family and I – there's five of us altogether – have been absent the past week. A terrible bout of flu." She bobbed her head emphatically. "Didn't want anyone to catch the virus from us so we stayed at home."

"Oh, all right." The girl somehow reminded me of Jessica, only in a good way. "Well, I'm Bella, by the way."

"I know that," the girl said seriously, traces of laughter gone from her face. She began walking and I followed after her, knowing that our conversation was not finished. "My name is Alice Cullen," she said finally. She was looking at me as if I was supposed to recognize the name, but the only Alice I knew of was a round girl from the Dionysus cabin. This Alice certainly wasn't round; she was as thin as they come.

"Well, er," I didn't know what to say. "Hi, Alice?" My greeting came out as a question. Lucky for me, Alice chose to ignore it because she just continued on walking, leading the way to the cafeteria. When we were right in front of the double doors, Alice whipped her head around to look up at me. She then asked if I would like to sit with her and her family.

That offer caught me off guard.

"Actually, I kind of planned on eating lunch with Angela," I said regretfully. "Perhaps some other time."

"Oh, pretty please?"

All right, who could resist those woeful looking eyes of hers? Not only were they an incredibly pretty shade of topaz, but they were just so – well, doleful. I couldn't resist it, even though I knew it was just the classic puppy-dog look. Alice sure used it well.

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll sit with you. Angela would just have to understand." I was glad to have a reason to avoid Jessica, if I were to be honest to myself.

"Yay!" Alice's countenance did a one-eighty. Now she was as excited as can be. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh, I can't wait for you to meet the rest of my family, though you've met one of us before. I'm sure you and them would get along awesomely. Just don't mind Jasper when he tries to ensnare you in a discussion. When I saw him in second period, he was all smiles because the new student was well equipped about the Greek mythologies. It's a hobby of his, really, talking about the myths and legends and such."

Alice took my hand and pulled me behind her, talking all the way. I couldn't get a word in edgewise because she was talking that fast.

"Look, you can see the rest of my family there!" She pointed at a table in a corner. It was surrounded by extremely beautiful people, all varying in looks and features, yet all looked alike. Perhaps they were blessed by Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. Surely no mortal could look that great without being blessed – or cursed, as Tori, a daughter of Aphrodite herself, told me once.

"Guys, why don't you introduce yourselves to Bella here," prompted Alice as she sat down beside Jasper. He draped his arm around her and kissed her on the forehead lovingly. I tried to reign in my surprise. Their relationship must be going really well to have Alice call Jasper family.

"Er, hi…" I murmured, waving a hand. I wasn't sure if they heard me or not but either way, Jasper smiled and introduced himself. He didn't need to bother though. I already knew who he was: that guy from my English class. His barely controlled excitement hiding in that smile was slightly disconcerting.

"Why, hello there, Bella," he said. "Fancy seeing you here. Care to join us for lunch? My name's Jasper Hale, by the way."

"I know," I replied politely. I averted my eyes from his beaming face and looked at someone else, anyone else but him. They – my eyes – landed on another guy, the one sitting next to Jasper, not the one in front. He was large and brawny, and very well-developed in the strength department, for sure.

"Hi, Bella," the guy said. He was smiling, which revealed two deep impressions on either side of his face. Dimples. That guy has dimples. Well, I certainly don't see that everyday. "I'm Emmett Cullen." I nodded my head to acknowledge him. "And this," he continued, "is my gorgeous girlfriend, Rosalie Hale."

It took a lot for me to tear my eyes away from Emmett's terrifying muscles, but in the end I was able to do it. The name Rosalie was very familiar to me, though I couldn't in my life think why it was so. The Rosalie in front of me right now was indeed gorgeous. She had long blonde hair that fell over her shoulders in waves, much like mine, but mine was more curly than wavy. That, and my hair was brown, not blonde.

"It's nice to meet you, Rosalie," I said softly.

Rosalie, glowing with what looked like was pleasure, tipped her head at me and said, "It's nice to see you, Bella."

What she said confused me, but I tried to not let it show. Did she know me from somewhere? Did I know _her_? Still puzzled, I looked at the last person in the group to introduce himself. His boyish looks make it appear that he was the youngest, but the depth in his eyes told me otherwise. He had fine bronze hair that stood up on all directions. The lines, the curves of his face seemed like it was drawn by an artist, he was _that_ handsome.

He could give Adonis a run for his money. In fact, move over Adonis and make room for this classical beauty.

"Hello," Mr. New Adonis said, smiling tightly. My heart, I think, skipped a beat when I heard his voice. It was deep and velvety, and it sent shivers throughout my body. Not the kind of shivers I get when I'm battling a monster. This was the good kind, the kind I get when one of the sons of Aphrodite flirted with me – of course, that only happened that one time and I was thirteen then. Sadly, I never saw Leo again after that summer. The children of Aphrodite weren't powerful enough to attract monsters, so they didn't need to come back to Camp for protection. Of course, Frank was an exception to that rule.

"Er, hi," I stumbled out. I could feel a steady blush crawling into my cheeks and I furiously wished for it to stay away. Go away, blush! Go!

"I'm Edward Cullen… and you're Bella."

Even though my heart was behaving oddly and my face was as red as a tomato, I still found in me the courage to raise an eyebrow and say, "I think I know my own name, Edward."

I sighed internally. His name just flew from my lips. I could say his name again and again… but I won't. They could overhear me and that would be – not embarrassing – but mortifying. I'd rather face a Minotaur with just a pencil for a weapon.

"I do apologize," Edward said, grinning. One corner of his lips was quirked up adorably. I couldn't help but stare at it – wait, I think Alice was saying something.

"Yes, Alice?" I said distractedly.

"Bella, aren't you going to sit down and eat? You're eating lunch with us, or have you forgotten?"

Laughter erupted from the group, and my face was painted red anew. Hurriedly sitting down on the only available seat (which happened to be beside Jasper and slightly in front of Edward), I folded my arms in front of me and ducked my head. I muttered something about not being hungry and just sat there. On the down side, I really was hungry. On the up side, Jasper was engaging me in a deep discussion about various Greek mythologies, much to Alice's amused vexation. The mythologies weren't really myths, but how should a mortal like Jasper know?

Lunchtime turned out to be rather enjoyable. I look forward to spending more time with my newfound friends.

**A/N: So… was it any good? Meh? If you have any queries then don't hesitate to ask, but keep in mind that it might be answered in any of the later chapters. Yeah. **


	7. A Date?

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 6

"Bella, I don't like you're newfound friends," Angela said to me the minute I was alone. We were on our way to our next lesson, Biology. It was pouring with rain and we had about five minutes before the bell rings again, so we were sheltering underneath the excess roof of the Arts building.

"You mean Jasper and his family?" I shook the water from my new jacket; it was the cheap raincoat kind that I bought from Thriftway at the same time as my toothbrush. Shaking the water out, though, was a pointless gesture since it was bound to get wet again. "What's wrong with them being my friends?"

"There's just something wrong with them, Bella." A faraway look graced Angela's face, her gray eyes focusing on something I cannot see. "When they moved here two years ago, I knew the minute I laid eyes on them that they weren't normal."

I looked at her oddly. "What do you mean not normal?" Moreover, the term 'normal' was a foreign concept to me.

"It's just a vibe that I get, Bella. You haven't been here long enough to know them like I do, but…" Angela cringed. "Look, there's something weird going on with that family. It's dangerous to mingle with them. Have you noticed their eyes? It's got a strange glint to it – doesn't it remind you of a predator… of a _monster_?"

The last word came out as a whisper.

I had noticed the bright topaz eyes of Jasper, and everyone else's eyes for that matter. They did remind me of a predator. I must admit that Angela was right, but if Alice and her family were monsters, then how come they didn't kill me the moment I sat with them for lunch? How come they haven't killed Angela yet, who has lived in this town longer than the two years they've been here. In addition, Alice had the perfect opportunity while we were walking to the cafeteria to kill me, and so did Jasper during English class. For a monster, a class of fifteen plus a teacher was a piece of cake.

"Angela, the Cullens and Hales seem normal enough to me," I said, resolute. "They were courteous and friendly and nice, and Emmett's a laugh once you get him going about sock monkeys."

"But that's just it," she insisted. She looked around, as if afraid that what she was going to say next was going to be overheard. That was unlikely. We were the only students left outside in the rain. I mean, no one was as foolish as us. "The Cullens and the Hales," she whispered, "aren't the friendly kind. They keep to themselves and ignore everyone else. They must be up to something if they're befriending you."

"Are you saying that I'm not worthy of being their friend, that they must have an ulterior motive to inviting me for lunch?" I frowned, not liking what Angela was implying. She might be a daughter of Athena, but she wasn't being very wise right now.

"No!" she exclaimed. She grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to face her. "You're a wonderful girl, Bella, and anyone would be lucky to be your friend. But the Cullens, no matter how charming they might seem to be, are hiding something. I know it." She let go of me and stepped back. "I like you, Bella," she said quietly. "You're like a kindred spirit, and I just want you to be safe."

I felt tears misting in my eyes. "Angela," I said in an equally soft tone. "You know just as much as me that my safety is my priority, just like your safety is a priority to you. That still won't change the fact though, that the Cullens are my friends. They invited me to lunch and I enjoyed their company. If there's something strange going on with them, then I'd tell you about it and we can work it out together, all right?"

"Do you swear on the River Styx?"

I bit my bottom lip. Swearing on the River Styx was a heavy thing. You don't just do it lightly. "Okay," I said finally. "I swear."

As Angela and I walked to our Biology class together, I wondered if swearing on the River Styx was such a good idea. I knew there was something off about the Cullens, but I had a feeling deep in my gut that whatever that secret was, it wasn't as dangerous as Angela was making it out to be. Perhaps the Cullens were just plastic surgery addicts.

Hey, it could happen. I doubted it very highly, but it could happen.

"Ms. Weber, Ms. Swan," Mr. Banner the Biology teacher, scowled the moment we stepped through the door. "You're both late."

I stepped up before Angela could open her mouth. I didn't want to brag, but I had more experience in lying to teachers than Angela has – after all, she's been going to this same school for the entirety of her high school career. I, on the other hand, wasn't so unlucky.

"We're sorry, Mr. Banner," I said, "but I got lost getting here and Angela, kind soul that she is, realized that I had taken a wrong turn. She doubled back to the cafeteria and found me hanging around by the Arts building."

Mr. Banner's frown deepened, but he did accept my explanation. He told us not to be tardy again and sent us both to our respective seats. My seat just so happens to be right next to Edward Cullen, my lab partner. This was the first time I'd be working with him, him having been absent for the past week.

"Bella," he said lightly, "you're soaking wet."

"Wow, gee," I rolled my eyes. "I didn't realize that, Edward. Thank you for pointing it out to me."

Edward laughed but said nothing, seeing as Mr. Banner was beginning the lecture. Afterwards, when the class was assigned a worksheet to complete, Edward coerced me into speaking even though Mr. Banner had explicitly told us not to. I mean, how could I ever resist Edward's velvety voice tempting me to conversation? It was like Alice's puppy dog eyes, only more effective. Much, much more.

"It was nice of you to stick up for your friend like that," he said. By now, he was finished with his worksheet. I, on the other hand, was still struggling with question number six. I've encountered mitosis before back in Sacagawea High, but I couldn't make head or tails of the questions. My mind was acting up on me, the words gibberish before my eyes.

"What do you mean?" I asked distractedly. I cast a fleeting look at him, and saw that he was wringing his hands in a manner that showed nervousness. I hadn't pegged him to be the nervous kind. If anything else, he sounded kind of cocky and overconfident to me during lunch.

"What you did just before," he clarified, "when Mr. Banner asked the two of you why you were late. You lied to him so that Angela wouldn't get into trouble."

"I prefer deliberately withholding the truth," I said impishly, returning my gaze to my paper. "And I did that to get myself out of trouble as well, you know."

"There is that, too." Edward chuckled, which made my heart beat fast. I forced myself to focus on my schoolwork. I was thinking hard about the last question when Edward tempted me again to speak.

"So are you enjoying the rain?" he asked.

I didn't mean to snap at him – really, I didn't. Except that I did and I felt really, really bad for it. He had it coming though. I was in the middle of answering the worksheet and he was talking to me as if I was finished with it. I wasn't as smart as him; I didn't have the luxury of having the ability to read properly.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking absolutely apologetic. "It slipped my mind that you were dyslexic."

My pen froze in between writing _cytokinesis_. "So you know about that?" I resumed writing, pretending that nothing was wrong.

As if.

I was shocked that he knew. Hell, I was shocked that anyone knew. When the students found out last week that I was dyslexic, they were pretty nice about it, so sometimes it felt like no one knew at all.

"Yes," Edward said. "Does that bother you?"

"No," I answered truthfully. "It doesn't." I finished the last word on my worksheet with a flourish, dropping the pen with a clatter and stretched my arms. "Done, finally!" I whisper screamed.

"Does this mean we can converse normally now?" Edward teased, his crooked smile surfacing.

"Well, I've got nothing else to do now but listen to you prattle," I teased right back. "So shoot. Talk yourself hoarse. I've been listening to people prattle – and by people, I mean Jessica – the entire day, and I don't mind that much anymore."

Edward laughed softly. "All right then. Do you mind if I ask you questions?" I shook my head no, and he began his line of questioning. "What's your middle name?"

I raised an eyebrow at the random question, but Edward motioned for me to answer. And so I did. "Marie."

"Isabella Marie Swan," Edward tested out my full name. "It has a nice ring to it."

"Gee, thanks," was my dry reply.

"Birthday?"

"September thirteenth."

"Year you were born?"

"1987."

"Song you last listened to?"

"How You Remind Me by Nickelback."

"Last thing you saw on the TV?"

"An advertisement for Dior perfume, oddly enough."

"Favorite color?"

"It varies from day to day."

"Favorite color today, then?"

"Bronze," I answered without hesitation. If anyone had asked me this question before I had met Edward, then I would've said sky blue (hence the blue shirt I was currently wearing). This morning I had felt like commemorating the sky, which was now covered by thick, ominous clouds.

"Why?" Edward asked.

I stopped myself before I could blurt out that it was the color of his hair. Looking away, I firmly glued my lips together and crossed my arms. When it became obvious that I was not going to provide an answer, not even a slight clue, Edward carried on questioning me. His questions varied from my favorite pastime (listening to music) to least favorite football team (I told him I wasn't a sports oriented girl). Eventually, he stumbled upon a question that I was very reluctant to answer. At the rate he was going, it was a wonder it didn't come sooner.

"So why did you move to Forks?"

"Aside from the fact that it's the rainiest place in the continental US and thus my most _favorite _place on earth?" I retorted sarcastically. I was avoiding the question, but who could blame me? I didn't want to tell him that my mother kicked me out because my last high school expelled me. I could just see how he'll react to hearing that Renee shipped her delinquent daughter to her Police Chief ex-husband.

The irony surely wouldn't be missed.

Edward snuck a side glance at me. "You needn't answer the question if you are unwilling," he assured me, and I snorted. That was reverse psychology if I ever saw it. I told him so just that. "All right," he smiled wanly. "You caught me, I was baiting you. But really, you don't have to tell me anything. I'm not trying to discomfort you in any way."

I stared at Edward unabashedly, not particularly caring that Mr. Banner was requesting for all worksheets to be handed in. I studied Edward's face, looking for traces of insincerity or deceit, but found none. He was being honest, which was a rare thing in people nowadays, and I knew that I could trust him. I knew that I can trust Edward. And so I told him the reason why I moved to Forks.

"You see," I said, "it all began one morning when this letter came from my old high school, Sacagawea High…"

I wasn't able to concentrate on any of the lessons that came after Biology, mainly because my mind was reeling, trying to figure out the oddity that was Edward Cullen. After class had ended, he had volunteered to walk me to my next class, Gym. I knew for a fact that his next lesson, Spanish, was on the other side of the school campus, so I found his offer both sweet and stupid. But mostly stupid.

I didn't want to offend him though, so I ended up accepting his chivalrous offer. At least, that was my excuse.

Walking down the hallway, I noticed that more people than usual was staring at me. As a new kid I suppose it was expected, but this was my second week of school already. Surely they were over my newness by now. But then it dawned on me that the reason why the people were staring was not because I was the new girl. It was because the new girl was walking with Edward Cullen.

"You know everyone is staring," I whispered to him, barely moving my lips. "I hate it when they stare."

"But you are familiar with it, aren't you?" he said more than asked. "Moving from school to school every year, meeting new people, going through the niceties of new introductions… it gets tiring."

He spoke as if he experienced moving from school to school himself, which struck me as odd. I thought the he and his family had stayed in Forks for the past two years. Perhaps they moved around a lot before they settled here – hey, I could ever know.

"Yeah," I agreed. "It does." We turned a corner and Edward opened the door for me to enter. We were in the gymnasium now, where I was supposed to meet Jessica so that we can head into the changing rooms together. "But if you have to move due to necessity, you learn to get used to it."

Edward nodded but chose to keep his thoughts to himself. I wanted to prod him for an answer, except Jessica had just waltzed in with Tyler and another friend of hers, Katie, trailing after her. "Well," I breathed, "this is where we say goodbye, Mr. Cullen."

"Not a farewell, Miss Swan," he smiled, "but a brief separation." He began walking away from me. "I'll see you after school next to your car?" He had shouted the question loud enough for the people in the near vicinity to hear, and I found myself blushing at their scrutiny.

Edward had, in the loosest sense of the word, asked me out on a date. Well, not precisely a date, but an invitation to meet up with him at a later time. Oh, it was a poor excuse for one, but it was a date all right.

"Er, yeah," I shouted back awkwardly, shoving one hand into my pockets while the other flew to rub my neck nervously.

I couldn't wait until after school – gods, I hope I can survive until then. I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming breath. I would be in denial if I said that I didn't feel a sort of attraction towards Edward. Because I did. I was extremely attracted to him, to his crooked smile, his deep topaz eyes, his gallant manner… I just can't believe that someone like him would show interest in someone like me.

He was the average good looking mortal teenager. I, on the other hand, was the average not-quite-good-looking half-blood teenager. We weren't exactly two peas in a pod.

Sighing, I opened my eyes and returned to reality. In other words, I readied myself to play volleyball.


	8. In The Parking Lot

**A/N: Here is the latest update. Sorry for the wait.**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 7

"So…" The locker door slammed shut, making me jump a foot in the air. It certainly couldn't have moved by itself, so I looked around for the perpetrator. It was Jessica, and she had this wide, evil grin on her face. Frankly, it scared me even more than a monster ever could. Evil grins were bad omens – very bad omens.

"So what, Jess?" I maneuvered my arm around Jessica's and pried the locker door open. I was standing half naked in the middle of the girls' changing rooms and was more than eager to get out of the stuffy enclosure. I could barely see through the mist, let alone manage to go to point B from point A without causing any permanent hemorrhaging to anyone nearby. "I'm changing, if you don't mind."

"So," she said again, that grin still shining bright. "I heard someone's got a date with the Edward Cullen."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is the 'the' part really necessary?" Jessica just kept her eyes on me, her gaze never wavering, not even once. I rolled my eyes and reached for a clean shirt, donning it on. "Look, it's not a date or anything. He's just meeting me by my awesome Chevy. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal," she repeated, eyes popping in disbelief. "Not a big deal?" Her voice was beginning to sound like a mesh between a harpy and a Fury's – believe me, I know. I've met the three Furies once on a mission. Not very nice old ladies… "Bella," Jessica shrieked, "how could you say that it's _not_ a big deal? You've bagged Edward friggin' Cullen. That's like, an accomplishment."

"It's like when the Apollo spacecraft landed on the moon. You'd be like, the first person to 'land' on 'the surface,' if you know what I mean."

I glared at Katie for her comment before turning to Jessica. Despite my blushing red face, I managed to get out: "Jess, we're just friends. It's not like we're an item or anything." And 'bagging' a guy wasn't an accomplishment. Dating wasn't meant to be a game wherein you score the highest points by getting asked out by the most desirable boy in school – yes, Edward was the most desirable, if I do say so myself.

"Friends don't walk each other to their classes, Bella – at least, not the way the two of you did it." Jessica insisted. "You were all angled towards each other as if you're like, fending off the rest of the world or something. And you're not an item yet. Oh, just you wait. I can see it now: you and him walking down corridors hand in hand, him holding your books for you and waiting for you by your locker, you leaning your head on his shoulder as you sit together… it's sickeningly sweet, but still. Amazing."

I had nothing to say her little speech; I just blinked a couple of times and then closed the locker door. I had to try really hard to not imagine those things Jessica had mentioned – the last thing I needed was me not paying attention whilst maneuvering out of the locker room – but as if a dam had broken, images of Edward and I cuddling each other on a white leather sofa, surrounded by his chattering family, came to the forefront of my mind. I smiled involuntarily.

Shaking my head to clear it, I walked out of the changing rooms, ignoring Jessica's calls on the way. Just as I was about to exit the gym, Coach Clapp called me over to talk about something. I wasn't really paying attention. I wanted badly to go out into the parking lot, but at the same time, I wanted time to slow down.

I had this feeling at the pit of my stomach that something bad was going to happen. And whatever that thing was, I prayed to the gods that I will come out of it alive. I usually get this feeling when some monster was out to get me, but this was Forks. A small, out-of-the-way town like this couldn't be in any monster's radar. Still, something was bound to happen.

"Is it understood then, Ms. Swan," smiled Coach Clapp. I nodded my head to whatever it was I was supposed to understand. "You can go now. But remember: next time, don't be too afraid to dive for the ball. It's not going to attack you, all right?"

Hearing the dismissal, I was all but flying towards the parking lot, I was that eager to get there. When I reached the general area that separated the lot from the official school area, I made myself slow down to single steps so that I wouldn't appear to be too excited. That would be embarrassing. I had to be calm. I had to be collected. I prayed silently to Irene, who was one of the goddesses of law-and-order and the embodiment of peace itself, for some help in that area.

Breathe in…

…Breathe out.

To my disappointment, no one was standing by my truck when I laid eyes on it. Grudgingly, I walked over to my rusty Chevy and, upon reaching it, threw my bag into the back. It was wet, so my things would get wet, but I didn't have it in me to care. Though it wasn't technically a date, did Edward just 'stand me up'?

I lingered by my truck for a minute or two, pretending to be searching for something in my bag. When the three minute mark chimed, there was no Edward approaching me. He really did stand me up.

My breath hitched when a horrible realization hit me.

Was this just a joke to him? Was he just playing me, all the way from the beginning? He played into my good side, acting charming during lunch, pretending to want to know more about me during Biology, getting all angry when I mentioned my mother and what she did… was all that a lie? Did he actually care?

From the look of things, I didn't think so. I suppose he had just, out of the blue, decided to play a trick on the new girl. I scoffed at that. I would expect that from a junior high student, not a junior. Edward should act more his age, not his shoe size.

As I was climing into the driver's seat, a wave of sadness – no, not sadness – a wave of intense anger and self-deprecation hit me and just overtook my entire being. So passionate were my emotions that I had turned deaf towards the world. This was ill-fated,because right at that very moment, screams were echoing around the parking lot, yelling my name.

"Bella, get out of the way!"

"The van's coming at you, Bella!"

"Tyler's about to crush you, Bella. Get out of the friggin' way!"

I didn't notice anything besides myself and how hard I was gripping the doorframe of my car. I was holding it to steady myself, because the sobs that were threatening to spill was too strong for me to fight. I wasn't usually this emotional over boys, but the painting Jessica has described to me – about the holding hands and such, and then that idea springing up in my mind about Edward and I sitting on the couch with his family surrounding us – well, it had pulled at my heartstrings. I've never had a tender family moment like that for years; not since I was five, maybe even a year or two before that.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, something definitely solid hit me from my side, making me lose my balance.

My brain went into overdrive. It took in details at frightening speed. I took in the fact that a huge purple metal van was careening towards the area where I was just seconds before. I took in the fact that I wasn't there anymore, though I didn't remember making any conscious decisions of moving. I also took in the fact that Edward Cullen was looking down at me, eyes pools of concern.

"Wait – what?" I stammered. I looked around me. There was a flurry of people rushing towards us and the van, helping out the driver. I saw Tyler's head peeping out the window, blood gushing from a wound with striking clarity. I felt sick to my stomach.

"Bella," Edward called. I didn't answer him. I was too engrossed by the scene of chaos around me to form a reply. Someone was calling 911. Someone else was calling the paramedics, another shouting herself hoarse for a teacher to come. There was a car accident in the parking lot and where were the teachers? Marking test papers in the teacher's lounge?

"Bella," Edward tried again. "Bella, answer me. You have to answer me. Please, listen to my voice. Answer me if you can hear me. Bella? Bella?"

"I –," I locked eyes with Edward. "I can hear you," I said. "I'm fine. I just…" I tried to stand up, but Edward's hold prevented me from doing so. I didn't complain. My heart was still racing, my body still locked in place.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Didn't you know?" Edward looked at me incredulously. He shook his head in disbelief before explaining everything. Tyler had lost control of the van, apparently because someone ran in front of the moving vehicle. He turned and headed straight towards me. Since I was facing the opposite direction, I didn't see the van coming my way. Edward then told me his actions of how he pushed me to the side, so that was how we found ourselves on the cold, wet pavement.

"Then, how did you get to me so quickly?" I inquired, still confused. "You weren't near me enough to have pulled me away like you described. In fact, I don't think you were in the parking lot at all. I would've seen you."

"Bella," Edward's smile was far too easy and laidback to be genuine, "I was with you the entire time. I said I was going to be waiting by your car, remember? I told you that. We were in the gym."

"Yes but," I frowned, "I was alone. I remember getting mad at myself because…" I shook my head, only to regret doing so because a spasm of pain erupted in my head. I slammed my eyes shut, wanting to groan in pain, but I decided to hold it in. I could hear the 'nee-naw' of the ambulance and I desperately didn't want to be hauled into hospital with those silly tourniquets.

"You weren't with me," I said with conviction, eyes still closed. It was easier that way. It was easier to admit the truth when I wasn't looking at Edward's appealing gaze. It was like he was tempting me to believe him, and I wasn't going to do that. "I was alone," I repeated. "I was by myself. No one was next to me or within running distance to help me, let alone you, Edward Cullen." I opened my eyes, looking accusingly at him. "How did you get to me so fast?"

There was something he was not telling me, something I'm going to assume was connected to whatever secret he and his family were hiding. Whatever it was, it sure had nothing to do with plastic surgery. Last time I checked, plastic surgery didn't give you the ability to materialize out of thin air.

"You hit your head on the pavement really hard, Bella," said Edward. "You just didn't see me standing next to you, or maybe you can't recall."

"No," I snarled. "My memory's as fine as can be. Edward, I was alone." I struggled my way out of Edward's embrace, forcing myself to ignore the pain in my head. When I was fully on my feet, I was so close to Edward that our noses were only about an inch apart. "You," I said, poking his chest, "are not telling me the truth." I poked him again. "And if there's anything in this world that I hate more than someone interrupting me while I'm concentrating on trying to read a question in a worksheet, is that someone lying to me to my face – unabashedly."

"I'm not lying to you, Bella."

"Edward, you were not beside me when I was suddenly pushed aside from the van's way. I know that for a fact."

Seemingly to be struggling with something, Edward ran a hand through his beautiful bronze hair. I leaned back and crossed my arms, smug. So he was lying. Well, that was disappointing. I suppose not even Edward Cullen was perfect: he had faults, just like everyone else. Disappointing, but oddly uplifting as well. It was good to know that he wasn't perfect. It made him sound more human, not like some kind of robot that was too good to be true.

"Bella," Edward said finally, defeated. "If you tell anyone about your version of events, no one's going to believe you. I highly suggest that you stick to my story."

My eyes softened at the visibly weary man in front of me, and I felt my anger subside. "I wasn't going to tell anybody," I whispered gently. "I just want to know the truth, Edward. How were you able to save me from the van?"

"You're not ready for the truth," he quipped.

I raised an eyebrow. He wasn't getting away that easily. "They say the truth sets you free."

"They also say that ignorance is bliss."

"Bliss is overrated. Are you going to tell me the truth or not? I can keep secrets, you know."

I was wasting my breath trying to convince Edward to talk. He wasn't going to be forthcoming with answers. In fact, he seemed to be reluctant to be even talking to me, as if being in my presence was slowly convincing him to speak, to say whatever it was he was hiding.

But I didn't want him to feel like that, so I sighed and walked away. Just like that. I walked away without turning back. After all, I had to talk to a doctor to see if I had a concussion or not. I wandered through the maze of students, making a conscious effort of not dodging suddenly to step out of someone's way because my head had begun spinning again. How I managed to reach the paramedics tending to a bloodied Tyler without falling down, I would never know.

"Um, excuse me…" I said timidly, not wanting to disturb the medic dabbing pristine white cotton on one of Tyler wounds. Well, it wasn't pristinely white now, but it must've been before it was smothered with blood.

"Yes, dear?" said the medic distractedly. She was a middle aged lady with her thick brown hair tied low in a ponytail.

"Oh, I was just wondering if – after you're done with Tyler, of course – you could check me and see if I have a concussion. I sort of hit my head hard when I…" I trailed off, not knowing what to say. Should I say when Edward came out of nowhere to get me out of the way? Or should I follow his advice and say he was beside me all along and then pushed the both of us down onto the pavement?

I was just about to sprout out some vague half truth about banging my head on the ground when Tyler, poor soul, realized that I was within hearing distance. His eyes focused on me, taking on an expression that was a mix of what looked like a strangled cat and a terrorized puppy. He was a terrorized cat. Or a strangled puppy. Either way, he didn't look good.

"Bella!" he exclaimed. "I am so sorry! I honestly didn't mean to come at you, but the van was out of control! Are you okay? I don't have to pay for your hospital bills, don't I? Crap, the Chief doesn't have to know about this, right? Crap, crap, crap…" He twitched his head in anger, much to the medic's consternation.

"Tyler," I rushed to sooth him. "Don't give yourself a hemorrhage or whatever. I'm fine; just hit my head on the pavement is all. I think you should worry about your own hospital bill instead of mine. And about Charlie, I'm sure he'd understand that it was an accident."

"Accident…" Tyler muttered under his breath. He then looked at me. "I was sure you were a goner there, Bella. How did you get out of the way so quickly?"

I schooled my face to not reveal any telltale signs that I was lying through my teeth. "Oh, Edward was beside me and pushed me out of the way. Kind of heroic of him, don't you think?"

"Edward?" Tyler repeated, a baffled light in his dark eyes. "Cullen was with you?" I didn't bother gracing that question with an answer, not wanting to lie anymore. Tyler's reaction only proved more my suspicions. Besides, I knew that it was a rhetorical question.

"Oh yeah," Tyler frowned, "he was supposed to meet you by your car, right? He practically shouted it to the entire gym class…" He then murmured something I couldn't catch. It would most likely be an insult, judging from the way the medic looked down at Tyler with a disapproving glare.

After the medic was done finishing up the still muttering boy, she told him to take it easy as he was transported to the hospital. It turns out that he will need three stitches for that gash on his forehead, and five more for a gruesome looking cut on his arm. It was a wonder that he escaped with his life when his van collided with my ogre of a truck.

"Now, let's take a looksie at you, dear," the medic said, turning towards me. She led me towards one of those rolling beds that hospitals use and allowed me to sit. She then began flashing lights to my eyes, asking the most random and innocuous questions like the today's date and my name.

As it turns out, I did have a concussion after all. And to make things worse, the lady medic was insisting on whisking me away to the hospital just to further check if I had no other injuries, such as boken bones and internal bleeding. Before I could squeeze out a coherent sentence out of my suddenly uncooperative mouth, I had a tourniquet around my neck and was being driven away inside an ambulance.

"Why, Isabella," I turned around to see that a nurse with long blonde hair and striking green eyes was inside the van with me. "You ought to settle yourself. It'll be a long ride ahead of you."

When I showed signs of not following what the nurse said, she pursed her lips and pushed me roughly onto the bed. She then strapped the straps around my waist and legs, hindering me from moving. I tried to shout for help, but she quickly silenced me and said that this was for my own good. I had a concussion after all.

For some reason, I knew that this wasn't the reason I was being tied down.

**A/N: Uh-oh, what have we here? Sorry, but you can't find out until the next chappie. Mwahaha... however, if someone can guess, then kudos for you. Perhaps I'd post the next chapter faster. Hint hint, wink wink ;D**


	9. A Different View Point

**A/N: So... Bella's been 'kidnapped'. I won't say anything more about it, except that none of the reviewers had guessed right. It's not a monster, but that doesn't necessarily mean Bella's out of danger. It actually depends on your meaning of danger... but that's neither here or now. This chapter is like a sneak peak, so to speak. All in Cullen's POV - specifically, Jasper's and Rosalie's.**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 8

**JPOV**

We were driving back home after a hectic day and it was very crowded inside Edward's car. I let out a deep, calming breath. I didn't like playing with people's emotions, especially if the victim of my power was my family – well, most of the time, anyway. It feels like I'm invading their personal space, invading their privacy by being able to read their emotions and modify it to suit my needs. But at the moment, I honestly needed to channel all of this anger and irritation away from the two warring females and force calm onto everyone before I go all newborn fighter against them.

Not that I would attack Alice, who was my wife, love and mate for eternity. Actually, I would hesitate too in attacking Rosalie. I might've fought in the newborn wars once upon a time, but Rosalie was her own level of formidable.

"Got that right," muttered Edward lowly, a smirk lifting up one corner of his lips. He shared a look with me; I classified it as amused boredom. He was amused, I suppose, at my internal ramblings (nosy mind reader), but was also bored at the current topic at hand. We were driving home after another day spent around human teenagers and my wife and 'twin' sister were arguing – more like ready to rip each other's heads off – about who else but the ever intriguing Bella Swan?

Bella Swan. Full name: Isabella Marie Swan. I wasn't quite sure about her middle name (Edward was adamant about not telling us), but that's what it said on her personal records. Alice had raided the principal's office during lunch before she approached Bella and asked her to sit with us. Of course, the family was more than happy to allow the girl to keep us company. We did miss her, after all.

Who would've though that we would be crossing paths again after seven years? The little girl, after being found behind a dumpster by Edward during his hunting trip, had crawled her way into our hearts that one night that she was with us. It was obvious from the way Edward couldn't help but think about Bella after she had run off, and the way Esme was beside herself with worry for the child, fending for herself. Carlisle, Alice and I were wondering why an obviously loved little girl would run away in the first place, a familial sort of curiosity settling upon us.

All of our reactions had taken us by surprise, none more so than Emmett when he realized that Rosalie was already halfway there in loving the girl. Apparently, just because the child had called her "pretty", she was immediately in her good books.

We had tried to find the girl again. Her scent was still fresh – and would still have been fresh for a few more days, if it had not rained and as a result, the scent was lost forever. The family was devastated after that, though we all hid our feelings with varying degrees of success. Of course, no one could hide their feelings from me, and no one could hide their thoughts from Edward. But we humored them, and they humored us.

And that was the crook of the problem right now: Bella was nearly run over by a van, and she would've died if it weren't for Edward's quick thinking. He saved her, pulling her out of harm's way. This action provoked different reactions from different members of the family, mainly Alice and Rosalie, because by the end of the incident, Bella was nearing on discovering the family's secret.

And that was bad. Very bad.

"No, Alice," screeched Rosalie, "we are not telling Bella anything! Our vampirism has been a secret from humans in the past and it will remain that way. Bella doesn't need to know."

"But Rose!" Alice cried, her head tilting at an awkward angle as she twisted on the front passenger's seat to look at her sister. "Haven't you been listening to a word I've said? Bella will find out in the end, so why waste time trying to prolong the inevitable? We might as well tell her as soon as possible – i.e. tomorrow – and get it over with."

"She'll run," said Rosalie. There was no room for argument in her tone of voice. "If we tell her that we're bloodsucking, animated marble statues, then she'll surely run."

Her tone of voice also said the thing that she was keeping to herself: she didn't want Bella to run. In fact, none of us – Alice, Emmett, Edward and I – wanted Bella to run. We had first met her when she was ten, and then she disappeared from our lives for the past seven years. And then to have her waltz back in after all this time? It seemed like fate to me.

We had unknowingly found ourselves fond of the girl, perhaps even going as far as having fallen in love. That was the reason why Rosalie didn't want to reveal our secret. Because if it was revealed and Bella knew, then she might run, and her running away meant that we wouldn't be able to be with her, to laugh with her and talk with her. What happened this lunchtime was just a preview of what I hoped would be the next few months.

It was very selfish of us – Bella needed to know the truth – but we craved for her company. She gave us something we all wanted. She gave us life. No one would want to say it out loud, but the greatest testimony was right in front of out eyes: Rosalie had warmed up to a human and Edward was smitten. He was _smitten_. Esme would be overjoyed to hear about that.

"She will not run, Rose," said Alice in the barest hint of a whisper. She met Rosalie's eyes dead on. "I've seen it as a vision. Bella Swan will find out what we truly are and she will not run for the hills screaming. Believe it or not, she will accept us. She'll be part of our family and we will be a part of hers."

That last part she directed at Edward, who frowned as he drove. Infinitesimally, the car – his silver Volvo – gained speed.

Rosalie, after seeking comfort from her husband and mate, sighed and asked, "Are you sure about that, Alice? Your visions can change. You know that."

"But this one won't."

Surprisingly, it wasn't Alice who answered, but Edward. He didn't say it to persuade Rosalie into believing. He said it as a statement, as a truth.

"I don't want to sound like a parrot or anything, but…" said Emmett, smiling slightly. "How can you be so sure about that? Like what Rose said, Alice's visions change. Not that I'm doubting your future-seeing abilities, Alice," he added hastily. Alice winked at him, telling him without words that she didn't mind.

"Because," said Edward, shrugging.

"Because what?" I prompted. I analyzed his emotions and was shocked to find it in turmoil. There was nothing odd about that – Edward was always fighting with himself – but what shocked me was that at the foremost of his emotions was, of all things, love. Affection. Admiration. Lust.

"Oh no," Rosalie gasped, realization dawning on her. "Oh no, you don't, Edward Anthony Cullen!"

"Wait, what's going on?" Emmett asked, lost. I was right behind him, but I was slowly catching on. Alice was filling me in.

"Edward," Rosalie hissed. "Please do not do this."

"Do what?" Edward was pretending to be clueless and, may I add, failing at it.

"Edward," she forced Edward to look at her, but he refused her hold. "No matter how charming and sweet and lovely she is, she's just a human. You deserve better, someone more durable, someone who can match your mortality."

"Or lack thereof," I added, finally catching up. Rosalie nodded frantically in agreement. "Her blood, Edward, remember that. Remember her scent and how it's exceptionally strong for you. You can't fall for her when you'll only put her life in danger."

It would be coldhearted of me to say it, but it was for the good of everyone, even Bella herself. It would crush her to have my brother fall in love with her, and her him, when in just a few months' time we would be moving on to a different location. Or if their love would stand that test, then what would happen when Bella grows old? I'll be damned before she becomes one of us.

Edward tore his gaze from the road and looked at us, saving Rosalie for last. "I haven't _done_ anything," he said, his voice mechanic. "I'm not _doing_ anything and I'm not going to _do_ anything." He then looked away and slowed his driving to thirty miles per hour, something I haven't seen him do in all the decades I've known him. "She's a breakable human, I'm not. Opposites may attract, but this is too much. I'm not even going to try."

**Rosalie's POV**

My mind was a blur. I had half expected Edward to blow us off and tell us that there was nothing to worry about, that he had no interest in the human. Instead, he told us that he wasn't going to do anything. He wasn't even going to try and win the girl's heart. That meant Edward wanted to, yet he's stopping himself because it was too dangerous. He was correct in that decision, but why would he give up so easily?

Love – if this silly infatuation that just began mere minutes ago was love, then it should not be easily discarded.

I met Edward's eyes in the rearview mirror. 'Fight for this, Edward,' I said in my mind, knowing that he could hear. 'If you think this is real, fight for it. Goodness knows you've been lonely enough to warrant the love of a mate… even if she is human.'

Edward increased the pressure on the gas pedal, and the car drove faster down the road.

"Wait until Esme hears about this," I muttered lowly, keeping my emotions out of it so that it sounded neutral. Jasper thought that I was on his side, and I wouldn't want to break his spirit by telling him I wasn't, not anymore. I want Edward to find his love, just as much as Alice (perhaps not as much; Bella, after all, was still breakable).

I intertwined my fingers with Emmett's and pressed his knuckles to my lips. Edward should have the same thing I have, the same thing everyone else in our family has. His solitude needed to end… now, if he wasn't so stubborn. Bella, though I was reluctant to say it out loud, would be a nice girl for him. In the back of my mind I can't still shake off the image of her ten year old self in that brown dress, nevertheless the reality was that Bella had grown. She was a grown woman now, and though I've only known this older Bella for less than a day, I knew that she had a good head on her shoulders – not a good pair of feet since she was clumsy as can be, but she had a good head.

'Edward, fight,' I insisted.

**A/N: I hope this chapters provided some insight as to what the Cullens were thinking about. Please review.**

**=D**


	10. Please Be A Monster, Please Be A Monster

**A/N: Ha, it really is funny to read the reviews about chapter seven. Practically everyone guessed that Bella's 'kidnappers' were monsters! XD Well, let me assure you that it's not monsters. Those things will come soon, but not yet. Anyhow, Bella's kidnappers are much, much worse than monsters... dunh, dunh, dunh!**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 9

**BPOV**

I was being whisked away to the hospital because I had a concussion. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn't mind going to the hospital. I mean, concussions were pretty serious stuff. But in this case, I was pissed, and all because of the pesky nurse who strapped me onto a gurney. If I wasn't strapped and therefore unmovable, then I would've stomped my feet in exasperation and, I don't know, punched something. I think I would know if my skull was cracked open. For one thing, there would've been blood – and pain. Lots of and lots of pain. And if there was pain, then there would be screaming.

Seeing as I was as silent as a mouse, I think it was safe for me to assume that I was broken-skull free.

"This is wholly unnecessary," I again told the driver, shouting so that I was to be heard over the rain. It was constantly raining here in Forks. "I'm completely fine!"

"A concussion if not fine, Ms. Swan," replied the nurse. The driver was ignoring me, the thin line of his lips telling me that he was on that delicate boundary between annoyed and angry. Since he was the driver, I thought it best to let him be… for now. Besides, I thought his sunglasses were cool, though why he would be wearing them in this rainy weather was beyond me.

"But I feel better already. Please let me out of this thing." I told the woman, eyeing her silky hair and deep, knowing eyes. I thought it was odd that she was wearing makeup as if she was attending a movie premiere. In fact, I thought it was odd that she was not wearing one of those scrubs that nurses were supposed to wear. I've watched enough of House, MD and Grey's Anatomy to know this.

"Be that as it may," said the woman, "I still need to tend to you."

I frowned at her choice of words. She spoke as if I was a problem. That, and she mentioned nothing about the hospital or x-rays or CAT scan or any form of a physical examination. Not even a good old check up from the good doctor, whoever he might be.

"What do you mean tend to me?" I asked, wary. I clumsily fumbled for the straps and the woman, seeing my pathetic attempts, rolled her eyes and took pity on me. I muttered a muffled "thanks" as I sat up. I looked at the front of the car to see the road, only to realize that there was no road to be seen. I instantly went on high alert.

"Oh, relax why don't you?" cried the woman. "You're perfectly safe." Even as she assured me of my safety, I knew I was far from safe. Why? Because the woman's blonde hair just turned to short, cropped black hair.

That was not normal hair behavior for mere mortals. This was either a monster or a god, and I prayed to my unknown father that it was the former. I may not have any weapons on me apart for my drumsticks, but I was ready to fight a monster. Facing a goddess, on the other hand… Having one kidnap you did not bode well for the captive, meaning me – it did not bode well for me.

"Who are you?" I was somewhat proud to hear that my voice wasn't wavering. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing, nothing," was the airy reply. "I just want to have nice, comfortable chat with you, Isabella."

"It's Bella," I corrected her mechanically. It earned me a raised eyebrow but I ploughed on. "You want to talk to me in an ambulance?" I said incredulously. "Of all the places you could've ambushed me throughout the day, you had to go to all the trouble of stealing an ambulance."

"I prefer the term commandeering," said the driver with a dry smile. "But what can I say, what the lady wants, the lady gets."

I gulped. I suddenly had a feeling that I know the identities of my kidnappers. And they weren't the identities of monsters. Shaking the fear from my mind and body, I locked eyes with the woman and bowed my head politely. I felt that I should watch my mouth from now on. There's no telling what kind of things a pissed off goddess can do to a half-blood.

"What is it that you want from me, Lady Aphrodite?" I said softly, respectfully.

The goddess waved off the greeting as her appearance morphed into a kind, motherly face with hair like mine. "A nice, comfortable chat," she said. "I thought I told you this already."

"A chat about?" I prompted, because to be honest, I was eager to get home.

"Mind your manners, half-blood!" yelled Ares from behind the wheel. I caught his glare on the rearview mirror, despite the sunglasses that barred the view. I just knew that those literal flaming eyes of his were on me, and they were very menacing. A churning sensation played on my stomach.

"Sorry for my manners, Lord Ares, Lady Aphrodite. You see, this is the first time I've ever met a god or goddess, let along two at the same time, and –"

"Yes, yes, we know that already." Aphrodite brushed off my apology. "Let's get down to business, shall we?" She didn't wait for my apprehensive nod. "You, Isabella, are probably the most average girl in the entire world. You have boring brown hair, boring brown eyes, boring average height and built… and though that doesn't necessarily mean that you're boring, being a half-blood, I know you know that you're just the average demigod. There's simply nothing special about you as a person."

I nodded silently, agreeing timorously to everything Aphrodite was saying. I thought it best to keep my colorful thoughts to myself. For the goddess of love, she certainly doesn't come out as very loving.

"And for those reasons, I think that is why you are stuck in the Hermes cabin, are you not? You have no concrete way of knowing which cabin you belong to since your Olympian father has not claimed you yet, am I right?"

I nodded again. This was humiliating.

"I see. So, on the whole, you are a completely nondescript girl with no discernible way of standing out." So concentrated was I in fighting the urge to whack the look on Aphrodite's face, I nearly missed what Aphrodite said next. "Nevertheless," she said, "for some silly and esoteric reason, my son thinks he's in love with you."

"Excuse me, my Lady?" I squeaked, taken by surprise. Who wouldn't be? The Greek goddess of love and beauty just told me that one of her many sons was in love with boring, average me. Not only was it too good to be true, but it was so out of the blue.

And hey, that rhymed.

"You heard right," growled Ares. "Frank's in love with you."

"Frank?" I squeaked again. Frank was the one who had saved me from a hellhound when I was ten years old. Oh, and yes, he was a son of Aphrodite. Unlike most of his half brothers and sisters, monsters seem to find him wherever he was in the country. It helps ease my worries wonderfully to know that he was a capable swordsman, else I wouldn't be here in Forks. I would be with him fighting. He was my best friend.

"My son fancies himself in love with you, Bella," Aphrodite deadpanned. "But no matter how much I love the kid, I know that he's not truly in love with you. I am the goddess of love, am I not? He loves you, yes, but he's not in love with you. Don't bother trying to decipher what I said, Isabella. You won't understand it. Just understand this: My son thinking he's in love with you is not the only reason why I forced my presence upon you, girl."

"Wh-what is the other reason, my Lady?" I was curious. Frank was now at the back of my mind.

"You may be the average, run of the mill Plain Jane, but something will happen to you that will change that."

My eyebrows knitted by their own accord. "I don't… understand."

"You will fall in love child," Aphrodite said carefully, tenderly, as if she was caressing a newborn baby with her words. "And you will fall hard. Your love story will be the stuff of legends, but no one will know about it apart from a select few – I and your real father, for example. I think you should know that I will do whatever it takes to make this love successful. I'd fight your father if I have to. You know how much I love a good love story."

"My father," my throat clenched with the betrayal, but I continued speaking, "doesn't want me to be happy with this love that you're talking about… Why?"

My hands fisted and unfisted on my lap, sweating like crazy. My father, whomever he might be, did not want me to be happy with this love of mine? Was he sadistic or something? Not only was he letting me endure all of these years wishing for him to claim me, wishing to know who he really was, and now I find out that he didn't want me to fall in love? That was harsh, even for an Olympian god.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Isabella." Aphrodite took my hands and forced me to look at her unwaveringly, and I did. "You're father doesn't want you to be with this man because it will be dangerous. Being with him may or may not decide your fate with death, and eventually the recent security of us Olympian gods. But let's face it: Love is dangerous in and of itself."

The ambulance stopped moving, and I was forcibly thrown across the small space. I didn't notice that the god of war was driving that fast. Perhaps I was just that engrossed in the conversation or something. Any girl would forget that she was on fire if someone told her that her love life will be the stuff of legends. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

"This is your stop," Aphrodite said. She smiled softly, opened the ambulance door and moved to the side, allowing me to pass by her. Like an automaton, I bid the two powerful gods goodbye automatically and stepped out of the car before it disappeared in a blink of an eye. After said blink, I realized that I was standing in the middle of the road, looking at Charlie's house.

Then it occurred to me that I may or may not have a concussion. I was tired and weary, and my head was spinning all the more with all this new information: Frank thinks he's in love with me, his mother says I don't deserved him, and it just so happens that she's interested in my love life which, apparently, I was forbidden to have because of my father?

This was too much. I collapsed, knowing nothing more.

I woke up the next day feeling well-rested and completely concussion-free. I was just so happy and relieved to be free of the dreams about mine and Frank's wedding (with Aphrodite as the officiator, who eventually curses me into oblivion for not heeding her warning), that it didn't occur to me until I was half into my jeans that the position of sun low in the sky didn't mean it was early morning. It was late afternoon.

"Oh, Styx," I cursed loudly, buttoning up my jeans. I just missed a day of school. Now I have to do some major catching up, or else my grades would suffer for the remainder semester. Frustrated, I grabbed a random shirt and stuffed my head through it, running downstairs as I did so for the landline. I would have to call Angela for the day's assignments, not to mention ask if she was up to some late night tutoring.

I was debating between doing the responsible thing and just drive to Angela's place, or do the lazy thing and turn on the TV and see a random comical sitcom for the rest of the night when, twenty seconds into an old rerun of a Friends episode, I remembered something about last night. It was something Aphrodite had said.

"_I'd fight your father if I have to."_

Confused as hell, I turned off the TV and robotically went up the stairs to my room. I retrieved the small collection of books I own, all pertaining about Ancient Greek mythologies. They were all written and published at different times (the latest being a compiled document printed from a Greek mythology blog) and countries (ranging from Greece itself to America to, oddly enough, Korea). All of the books have their own images and description about the twelve Olympian gods, the other major gods, minor gods, their immortal children, known mortal children.

And I plan on cross-examining them all to see if I could figure out who my father was. I can't believe I haven't done it before, cross-examining. I usually just read about one god and match his children's attributes to mine, not the other way around. I've never thought about my attributes and talents and then comparing them to other half-bloods, simply because I didn't have any. Like what Aphrodite said, I was nondescript.

"This wouldn't be too hard," I said to myself unconvicingly, cracking open the first book.

An hour later, my head was swimming with meaningless shapes and letters, while my hand was cramping from all of the notes I've taken. I roughly had three back to back pieces of yellow legal pad paper filled with my chicken scrawl penmanship, and at the very beginning was a list of my abilities. I was sure that the answer was staring me right in the face, but my stupid dyslexic brain wouldn't allow me to read further than the Olympian gods and no matter how much the evidence says so, I was not the daughter of the virgin goddess of the hunt, Artemis. I'm pretty sure that my mother was Renee. And come on: _virgin_ goddess of the hunt. She may be a goddess and everything, but I doubt she's capable of immaculate conception.

"Bella, are you all right in there?" Charlie shouted from the kitchen. He was halfway through preparing dinner (a pizza take out), having come home after his shift about forty-five minutes ago. He was so glad to see me up and about that he asked me what I wanted to eat for the night. He ended up ordering pizza instead of cooking the fish he had caught from a previous fishing trip.

"I'm fine," I called, massaging my palms.

Dinner was quiet business – well, barring the part when Charlie informed me that he had accepted a dinner invitation for tomorrow night from Dr. Cullen a couple of hours ago. Apparently, his kids had been worried about my wellbeing since I did not show up in school at all today, and also, Mrs. Cullen had been pretty keen on meeting the girl who befriended her children.

"Pity really that th' kids 'round 'ere exclude th' five of 'em so much," said Charlie around a mouthful of pizza. He was talking about Edward, Jasper, Alice, Rosalie and Emmett. Who else? Santa's little helpers? Charlie finally swallowed and continued, "Of course, it doesn't help that they all live under the same roof, you know. Gotta give Dr. and Mrs. Cullen credit though, adopting all those teenagers and then dealing with them dating each other..."

Okay, that's news to me. Really, they were adopted by the same couple? That's something to think about.

"Well, they seem like nice people to me," I said, picking at the flavorless toppings of my slice of pizza. "Alice and Rosalie are really nice girls, and Emmett's funny once you get to know him. Jasper's interested in the Greek mythologies like me, and Edward…" I paused, not knowing what to say. I can't compliment him on his classical good looks in front of my Charlie for obvious reasons.

"Let's just say," I said finally, "that he's got a good voice."

"Oh, so you've heard him sing, then?"

I knew that he would come to that conclusion. Smiling, I stuffed my mouth with the pizza and grunted noncommittally. It was nice to know that I wasn't the only person in this town whose life was out of the norm.

**A/N: So... you like? Anyhow, please review. Consider it your Christmas present to me or something. Happy Christmas in advance, people! It's Christmas Eve from where I'm from, so I'm feeling pretty festive. Yeah.**

**=D**


	11. Enter Frank

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 10

My comeback after my near-death experience with Tyler's van was as normal as can be – that is, if you considered having teens your own age idol worship you for either coming out alive from a situation like being nearly run over, or at the fact that it was 'the' Edward Cullen who heroically saved me. Frankly, I've grown tired and weary with the large posse by the time lunchtime rolled around, so I was immensely glad that Angela kidnapped me and showed me her hiding place.

"I always go up here whenever I get frustrated by anyone or when I just need to be alone," she said as she spread a folded blanket over a cement bench, allowing the material to soak up the remnants of rain water. We were on the roof of the Science building, where some of the senior science students performed most of their plant-related experiments (or where the smokers go secretly to unwind, judging from the lingering scent of eau de smoke).

"Well, it's nice up here," I said, admiring the view of the school and the town from above. "I'd never thought that I'd find myself up on the roof of a school building after what happened back in Preston High."

Angela stifled her chuckles. "Let me guess: You got attacked and somehow you ended up on the roof fighting for your life?"

"With a throwing knife in one hand and a saxe knife in the other," I nodded my head passionately, the scene of the incident clear in my mind. "Since, you know, hauling to school a bag filled with a bow and a full set of arrows is a very stupid thing to do. I mean, they had metal detectors at the entrance doors! I couldn't sneak in anything worthwhile."

"Right, I see. Oh, and speaking of weapons," She rummaged in her bag and took out her lip balm. "I like the work done in yours." She nodded her head to the direction of my drumsticks, catching me by surprise to find out that she knew what they were in the first place. "So," she smiled, throwing me the lip balm, "I'd like to show you mine."

I caught the flying projectile deftly with one hand. Eyebrows furrowed with the lack of comprehension as to why I was holding lip balm – let's face it, I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed – I wedged the thing between my forefinger and thumb and asked, "My lips are dry?"

Angela laughed. Heartily. "No, silly. That's what I want to show you! Open it and see what I mean."

I did as I was instructed and, a split second later, the small lip balm was replaced by one magnificent sword. Made from what else but celestial bronze, the double edged sword was amazingly lightweight and very, very sharp. The hilt was simply decorated, but engraved at the tip was an owl, the symbol of Angela's mother.

"It's breathtaking," I whispered, eyes wide, taking the entire thing in all at once. "I've never seen a sword as wonderfully made as this…" I backtracked, thinking of Frank's sword. "Well, it's the third best wonderfully made sword I've seen," I amended, thinking out loud.

"Whoa, hold up there, Swan," Angela cried. She was standing up with both hands on her hips. "What do you mean the third best sword?" She wrestled the weapon from my arms and, imagining an assailant (most likely a giant spider, her worst nightmare), performed some of the basic maneuvers. "This thing is my baby, how could you say that?"

"I'm sorry," I said sincerely, "but it's true." I shrugged helplessly, knowing how ridiculous one can get over their chosen weapon. I know I've made a fool of myself a couple of times when someone (cough*Frank*cough) made an offhand comment about my bow and arrow being shoddy or about my knives not being grandly decorated enough.

"Aww, c'mon," Angela pouted. "Who else has a better sword than me? Tell me your top two."

Reluctantly, I told the annoyed daughter of Athena my top two.

"Well, Riptide is pretty awesome," she allowed, "Percy's sword is historical. But this Frank, is he the same guy you told me about on your first day here?"

"Yes…" I said softly. "My best friend. He's older than me by a few years, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's brighter."

Turning around, I looked away from Angela and examined the many different colors of roses behind me. I gently caressed one a pale pink one with my third finger, feeling the velvety smoothness of it, reminding me of my last day with Frank. It was on the last day of summer just this year. We were going on our separate ways: Me back to Renee's place and him to his father's condominium in Chicago.

I wonder where Frank was now. He's probably studying very hard in whichever college Mr. Stinson had chosen for his only stepson – or most likely, skiving off of lessons as he wandered the busy streets of Chicago, hitting on one poor girl after the next. Being a son of Aphrodite, Frank was blessed with immense good looks and charm. It's a wonder that he hasn't been offered a modeling contract yet.

"I see that you miss him," came Angela's hushed voice. "He must be a very good friend to you."

I laughed a teary laugh. "Only if you call IM-ing your best friend only once after months' worth of absences a very good friend," I said wryly. "He attracts trouble wherever he goes and, when I'm close enough, I sometimes get dragged along with him. I don't mind fighting with him side by side, but it's when he's alone that I get worried. He never stops by or calls or IMs to tell me how he's doing, and I hate that."

"I'm sorry." Angela wrapped me into a warm hug. "I'm sure wherever he is, he's all right."

"Yeah…" I murmured. "You're right."

After a while, Angela let go of me. There was comfortable silence between us and I was enjoying myself with the peace when, out of the blue, Angela asked, "Does Frank own a sleek black Porsche?"

I sent her a baffled look. "Yes, but why are you asking?"

"And does he, by any chance, have charcoal black hair?"

"Personally I'd say it was ebony black, but sure, yes. How did you know?"

"Does he like wearing button up shirts and dress pants?"

"And Italian shoes," I added. "All the time. Why? Have you met him before?"

"Know him?" Angela gulped. "I think I just saw him." She raised her finger to point downwards towards the parking lot. And then I saw what she was seeing.

Frank, my absentee best friend, was sitting on the hood of his car, looking ill at ease as every pair of eyes in the sparsely populated parking lot (and its surrounding field) stared at him. Indeed he was dressed just as Angela described him, so he looked a few years older than his twenty years of age.

"Oh gods," I exclaimed, delighted. "It's Frank!"

* * *

I suppose leaving Angela on the roof was a bad decision on my part. In fact, leaving the school premises with Frank without telling anyone that I was leaving was sure to get me into trouble the minute I get back. But what the hell, I'm throwing all my cares away. Why? Because I haven't seen my best friend in months, and I missed him.

I repeat: My best friend.

And at the moment we were cruising down the highway, singing at the top of our voices and acting like immature idiots (which we were on special occasions, and this was a special occasion). IYAZ's song Replay was blaring from the Porsche's radio system, thankfully drowning out Frank's ear-splitting voice. Handsome and charming he might be, Frank was never able to hold a note or carry a tune. I'm not saying that I'm worthy to be singing in front of crowds, but at least I wasn't breaking the figurative glass windows.

"So Frankie," I said, slightly breathless from the song. I had turned it down to a more manageable volume for conversation. "Why the sudden reappearance, and where are you taking me? My house is in the other direction…"

"Why am I here?" Frank repeated, feigning feeling appalled. "Why, I'm hurt, Isabella. Does your best friend need a reason to drop by and see _his_ best friend in the whole wide world?"

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Yes, if that best friend is supposed to be attending college in Chicago, and especially if that best friend hadn't called in eons."

"Eons, Bella?"

I crossed my arms, grumbling, "Certainly felt like it to me."

"Aww, poor Bella," crooned Frank, jutting his lower lip out in an adorably fake pout. At this angle of his head, I was able to examine his face properly. His ebony black hair was long enough to cover his hazel eyes and there was a new scar on his cheek, most likely from one of the many monsters he'd battled. But being a son of Aphrodite, Frank was still handsome. It gets unfuriating at times.

"Don't 'aww, poor Bella' me," I snapped. "I've been worried about you! For all I'd know, you could be lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding to death! Do you know how frightened I get every time I see you with a new scar?" I reached across to grab his chin, adjusted the angle of his head so that I had a better view of his battle souvenir. "How did that happen, huh? Another hellhound clawed you in the face?"

Frank looked away and I let him go, seeing as he was driving and all. His reaction told me enough: That it _was_ a hellhound that attacked him. It was always hellhounds or one of the Furies. I didn't know what kind of feud there was between Frank and the god of the Underworld, but it has been seven years. It ought to be resolved by now.

I sighed, knowing that I've been too hard on my friend. "Sorry," I mumbled. "I just worry about you is all."

"No," Frank shook his head, glancing at me fleetingly before staring back out at the road, "I see where you're coming from. But I'd rather you don't find out about my latest escapades, you don't deserve to be worried all the time. That's one of the main reasons why I don't IM you every time something happens to me. I'd rather you be happy and carefree than be worried and anxious for just me. That, and because drachmas are difficult to come by."

"Frank," I sighed. I lifted my feet to rest on the chair and leaned my elbows on my knees, allowing my head to be cradled by my arms. "You're my best friend – how many times do I have to as that? It's natural that I worry, no matter what I know and don't know."

"So that's all I am, then?" he said, far too lowly to be overheard by me. But I did, and so I blushed at unintentionally hearing. Luckily, Frank didn't notice my blush and the rest of the ride to our destination was spent in heavy silence, despite the fact that the radio was on.

* * *

Frank parked the car in front of a grand looking building. After the longest of car rides, we finally arrived to wherever we needed to be. That is, the busy city of Seattle. When we had crossed the town limits, Frank explained to me that he and I needed to be somewhere (as if it weren't obvious) to meet a very important person. He didn't tell me any more details than that, but I'd gathered that this meeting was very important.

I was clueless as to how it would pertain to me, but it was important nonetheless.

Stepping out of the car, I shivered from the cold. I was only wearing my hoodie, and the cold biting wind was just that: cold and biting. Frank, bless his soul, offered me his coat to wear. I then obediently followed him into the building (which I now recognized as a theatre, judging from the dramatic and musical posters lining the walls of the lobby), I eventually found myself in a very spacious room. It was a circular room with chairs upon chairs arranged around an elliptical stage, in which an orchestra was situated.

Suffice to say, I was beyond baffled as to why Frank – and more importantly, I – would be needed in a theatre. The farthest I've gone into entertaining arts was the beauty pageants I was forced into, and even then my talents were second best.

"Frank, why…?"

"Shh," he hissed softly. "We need to be quiet; they're practicing." He reached for my hand and led me towards the center of the room, where the orchestra was.

"Then why are we here?" My eyes scanned the room, picking up details that only someone with battle ready skills can do: I saw that the room has been recently cleaned, there was equipment people scurrying around up on the balconies, blocking most if not all of the exit routes, and the orchestra were dressed in formal wear. In other words, people will be coming in soon to watch the show.

Frank didn't bother to answer my queries. We were by now at the very bottom and the center of the room and, as if timed, the moment we stepped on the stage, the orchestra's song ended. I vaguely identified it as Haydn's String Quartet in F Major No. 2 – yes, I listen to classical music, Haydn being one of my favorite composers. In fact, I find his Surprise Symphony very entertaining.

"Mr. Blaze, sir," said Frank, addressing the conductor. The man was very tall, at least six feet, and he had a crown of dull brown hair. When he turned around and faced Frank and I, I saw that he had a bright smile plastered on his wrinkled face and, dressed in a tailed tuxedo paired oddly enough with loafers, he looked quite handsome for a man well into his late forties.

"Yes, young man?"

My eyebrows shot up to meet my hairline. The man, strangely, had a young voice for someone so old.

"I had a dream last night," Frank whispered, wary of the clearly eavesdropping people surrounding us. Unknowingly, I was leaning in too, just to hear Frank's hushed words.

"Young man," laughed the man, "everyone has dreams."

"Yes," said Frank, unperturbed, "but this one stood out in particular, mainly because the exact same thing happened to me seven years ago."

"Ah," the old man's face smoothened, losing the gaiety he was wearing just moments before. "You must be Frank Stinson…" The man then looked at me long and hard, like he was assessing me. I certainly felt ill at ease as he took in my five feet short inches of height. For some reason, I felt underdressed in my worn out jeans and simple shirt for such an important occasion. Why meeting this old man was an important occasion, I might not know at the moment, but important it was. "…And you are Isabella Swan," the man said.

"Bella," I corrected automatically. My cheeks flamed under the man's reproofing yet vaguely amused gaze. Still, I apologized softly for speaking out of turn.

I watched as the man signaled one of the orchestra players, a girl with carrot red hair and eyes too close together, to lead the orchestra into playing another musical piece. He then led Frank and I into an antechamber of sorts, away from any stray listeners. My eyes had to adjust accordingly to the darkened room, but in time I was finally able to see the elaborate designs on the ceiling and the various paintings of people lining the walls. Already, Frank and the conductor were having a hushed discussion.

"Are you sure... she doesn't suspect a thing?"

"It was difficult to hide it from her for all these years, sir…" Frank replied. "…I managed to do so without much difficulty. I had to… but she remains unsuspecting."

Pretending to be engrossed in a painting of a little girl in a yellow dress, I strained my ears to listen. What were they talking about? Was the 'she' of their topic me? I mean, why would I be here in the first place? I like listening to orchestras and everything, but I had skipped school for this (and involuntarily the dinner Mrs. Cullen had invited Charlie and me to).

"Well then," the conductor said. "I suppose I should thank you… gallant acts throughout the years. You've done a good in job in protecting…" I was confused to piece together the fact that this old man knew about Frank's heroic deeds in fighting the many monsters he had encountered, but then it all made sense when he said, "You have the gods' blessing, Frank Stinson."

The conductor was a god, that much I was certain of. And who else would it be other than Apollo, the Greek god of music (among other things)?

My heart skipped a beat; this would be the second time in just one week that I was in the presence of an Olympian deity. If this happened to me more often in the past, then perhaps I wouldn't be so surprised. But this doesn't happen to nondescript, boring me. Nothing ever happens to me that can warrant the attention of the gods – well, except for what Aphrodite said.

Wait a minute.

I stiffened and, slowly, turned towards Frank and Apollo. Aphrodite mentioned something about my love story being the stuff of legends. She mentioned that being with my love, whomever he was, may or may not decide my fate with death. She also mentioned something about my decision jeopardizing the recent security of us Olympian gods. I suppose that could warrant the attention of the gods.

Feeling my gaze on them, the two men ceased their talking and looked at me. I looked back with appalled eyes – slowly, I'd been putting together the separate pieces and the bigger picture was materializing in my head: Frank was in league with Apollo about something, something that I was a huge part in. And it had something to do with Aphrodite's prediction, I was sure.

"Bella," began Frank, offering his hand for me to take. "This is not what it looks like."

"It usually never is," was my reply. It was a shock to hear that my voice was cold, detached. "I thought you were my best friend, Frank. As it turns out, you've just manipulated me like a chess piece."

"I_ am_ your best friend, Bella."

"No," I hissed, putting as much of my hatred and disgust into it, "you're not, Frank. Your mother was wrong about me not deserving you. It's your manipulative ass that doesn't deserve me. The past seven years had been a lie… you're just as bad as the gods themselves!"

I pushed past him, not hesitating in using some of the shoddy martial arts work I had accumulated in the past years. I left Frank kneeling on the ground, clutching his family jewels in pain. I ignored Apollo's shouts of my name as well as I left the room, the building, and ultimately ran into the pouring rain. I had pissed off the gods with my wayward mouth, but I didn't give a damn at the moment.


	12. It Just Keeps Getting Better and Better

**A/N: I'm not sure, but I think this would be my first time updating for this story for 2011 and let's just say that I've taken my sweet time about it. i'd like to apologize for that. I've already written chapter eleven and onwards for a while now and the only problem was finding the time to upload it, but I've decided to discard a subplot and now I've had to revamp everything. You can say all my previous hard work was just a waste ;D Anyway, I hope this one would be good enough. Enjoy reading!**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own anything.**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 11

Five seconds outside in the rain and I was already soaked to the bone. The weight of the water pouring over me in torrents slowed me down, but I was able to run for about a mile or two before needing to sit down and rest. I plopped loudly on the wet pavement, groaning at the pounding pain in my legs from the rigorous exercise. Heaving heavy breaths, I studied my surroundings and realized that I was in an alleyway.

I paused. Finding myself in alleyways didn't bode well for me. The last time I was in an alleyway, a hellhound was chasing me. It would be just my luck to have one after me right now (I did just insult the gods, and that includes Hades), and this time, there would be no Frank to help me.

Thinking about the first time I met Frank enabled memories that I had painfully erased from my mind to be remembered. For instance, I remember now that it was after another second place win in a beauty pageant that I decided to run away. Renee and I were living in Riverside, California. I also remember falling asleep behind a dumpster, and then waking up in a warm house. There was a woman tending to me – I remember now. What was her name again? There was an 's' in it for sure, and her name was some kind of flower. Sunflower? Definitely not. Roxanne? No, she was a girl I knew from Sacagawea High. Rosalinda? Maybe.

"Well, well, well… What do we have here?"

I scrambled to my feet, fumbling already for my drumsticks. As the person approached, I raised the two wooden sticks and hit them together. Instantly, they transformed into knives, a saxe knife and a throwing knife. They glinted as the faraway streetlights shined on their metal bodies.

Now that the person was close enough for my eyes to see clearly (I mean, it_ was_ raining hard), I saw that it was a man who was in the alleyway with me. He was for definite taller than me, he was heavier in build and therefore much stronger. If I was not a trained half-blood then perhaps I would've collapsed in a puddle of fear, but since I was, I managed to rein in the aforementioned fear. It wasn't like this man was terrifying monster. He was just a random drunkard who may either rob me and beat me to death or rape me. Whichever it might be, I will go down fighting.

"My, aren't you one sweet looking girl," the man appraised, looking unabashedly at me from head to toe. I suppose it did not help matters that my soaked attire stuck to my body like a second skin.

"Stay away from me," I warned, body poised ready to throw my throwing knife. If he got any closer, then I'd go into another pose, ready to fight with the saxe knife first before the throwing knife.

"What are you going to do?" scoffed the man. "Toss that piece of metal at me and watch it fly over my head as I dodge? Don't kid yourself, girl. Just make things easier and let me have my fun. That way, maybe you can come out of this with just a few aches and pains and not a dire injury."

I spat at the man. It hit the target with force. "In your dreams, freak-o. You are not laying your filthy hands on me, so think again." And then I threw the knife, my aim true. Unfortunately, it had slipped my mind that celestial bronze wasn't meant to harm mortals, and so my knife just went past the man's torso and skidded on the pavement floor.

The man stood still for a moment; I suppose he was shocked at what just happened. I took advantage of this and, seeing a sodden plank of wood nearby, grabbed it and swung it at the man with all of my might. Again, my aim was true and the wooden plank collided with the side of the man's head. He let out a startled cry before slumping to the ground, hopefully unconscious and not dead.

"Oh gods," I gasped, my free hand flying to cover my open mouth. "Did I just do that?" The saxe knife transformed back into a drumstick, and that dropped to the ground with a loud clatter; I knelt on the ground and pocketed it. It was still raining. I watched in the dim lighting as the man's blood seeped and mixed with the rain water. The man didn't look like he was breathing. Even if you were unconscious, you were supposed to breathe, right? The man was lying still as a statue, and I instantly knew that I was in deep trouble.

I felt vomit rising in my throat.

"I just killed a man," I whispered, horrified at myself. I mean, I'd killed before, but those were monsters, not mortals. This was different – completely different. "Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods… I killed. I freakin' killed someone."

"You might have, but think of the alternative." Someone else stepped into the alleyway. My eyes struggled to take in the silhouette, so there was a few seconds of dead time (pardon the pun) before I could make a coherent answer.

"Edward?" I threw his name into the air randomly. The figure in front of me certainly was the same height as Edward. He even has the same velvety voice. "Hey, is that you?" Blood rushed from my face for once when I realized that perhaps Edward saw me deliver that killing blow. "Did you see me... hit... that man?"

"I was following the man and saw him go in here," he said, not really answering my question as he came closer. I would've fled by now, the scene playing much too the same from the one with the drunkard, but I couldn't find it in myself to lift up my feet and run. I was ashamed to admit that I was entertaining the idea of killing Edward so that there would be no witnesses.

Oh gods, what kind of person was I turning into?

"Bella," Edward was close enough for me to see his face clearly, despite the rain. "The man was thinking vile thoughts about you, there's no doubt about it. If you didn't defend yourself, then you would most likely be dead by now."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Actually, I think I would be writhing in disgust underneath him and then I'd be dead."

Edward's lips thinned into a line. "Don't joke about that!" His growl sent my heart racing. Wait a minute… his growl?

"I'm sorry," I shook my head as I tried to stand up. "I didn't mean to upset you, I –"

"Hey," he smiled reassuringly as he offered his hand for me to take. "Shouldn't it be me who's supposed to say sorry? I did absolutely nothing to help you back here."

"You weren't here yet," I said, baffled. "How could you have helped then?"

He just shrugged and grasped my hand loosely, leading me out of the alleyway and into, surprisingly, his car. When I asked him what he was doing here in Seattle, he shrugged noncommittally and carried on driving – back to Forks presumably. The entirety of the ride so far consisted of utter silence and I was immensely glad for that. I had used the time to come to terms with my actions. By no means was I happy that I took that man's life, but what Edward said was correct. Killing the man was better than the alternative – and I didn't care how selfish that makes me sound.

I looked out the window and was glad to find that we were nearing the boundaries of Forks. I glanced at the car's digital clock, grimaced, and then sighed, accepting what I know would be the consequences of my actions. Charlie would be furious that I had skipped school, nearly gotten raped and then missing the ten o'clock curfew, not to mention the dinner Mrs. Cullen had prepared.

"Oh, Styx," I cursed under my breath. I completely forgot about that dinner! Cringing into the front passenger's seat, I addressed Edward and said contritely, "Please don't tell me your mother is upset that I missed the dinner she was planning."

The car turned a corner and I was caught off guard, nearly slamming into Edward.

"Sorry for that," he said, quickly adjusting the car. "Um, you're actually worried about that dinner? I would've thought that you'd be worried about…" I sent him a pointed look and he trailed off. "Right, well, Esme's upset but she understands that you haven't seen your friend in a long time."

The tentative, light atmosphere dissipated as quickly as it came. "Frank's not my friend," I said coldly. "Not anymore. And I suppose Angela told you about him?"

Edward shrugged his shoulder. "She kind of had to when your father questioned her after school. The principal, you see, called Chief Swan at the station once he became aware of your absence."

"Gods, that'd be embarrassing." I closed my eyes and leaned my head on the seat. "What happened next? Did Charlie send out a search party for me? Is that why you were in Seattle, though why would you end up in there in the first place?"

"Ah, no, your father did not send out a search party, all the same he was just about to when Alice convinced him not to bother. She told him that you were an intelligent girl and would do the right choice. Well that, along with the idea that you would have to do whatever he assigns for punishment."

I laughed bitterly. "I'd be immensely lucky to get a months' worth of grounding for what I did tonight. I deserve to be in jail or something."

"No!" The car swerved again and this time, I was practically on Edward's lap with the gear stick poking painfully at my abdomen. Really, for such a fancy car, the seatbelts barely work at all. "Don't beat yourself up for this, Bella! What you did was justified and I know you know it, so believe it."

I tactfully kept my mouth shut as I disentangled myself from him. It would do good to upset the driver of the car even further. Besides, what he said was true. I need to remind myself of that. Another round of silence settled in and this time, it wasn't broken until the car parked in front of Charlie's two-bedroom house. There was a small light shining from the living room; I knew Charlie was going to wait up on me. What kind of a father would he be if he didn't?

"This is goodbye then," I said as I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the car door.

Edward quirked a crooked grin, which evidently, left me breathless. "Not a farewell," he said, quoting the conversation we had in the gym just two days ago, "but a brief separation. I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow morning at school, right?"

"You're not just saying that so that you'll have an alibi like last time, are you?" I couldn't resist saying that, though I knew it was kind of vindictive of me.

Edward flinched but kept his crooked grin. "It wasn't meant to be an alibi the first time," he said. "And it's not an alibi now, either. I really would like to see you again tomorrow."

I nodded, knowing when to back down. "Hopefully in better circumstances, too."

Watching Edward drive away into the darkness of the night was probably the best thing that had happened in the last couple of hours. The way he drove was just so artistically graceful, I found it extremely difficult to look away and make my way inside the house – or, perhaps I was just reluctant to face Charlie and was looking for an excuse to stay outside as long as possible. Still, I wasn't ignorant enough to think that I could prolong the inevitable, so I slowly placed one foot in front of the other.

* * *

If this was any other night, soft classical music would be playing from my stereo as I ready myself for bed but, as it was, this was not any other night because the very moment I placed my foot on the front porch, the porch lights went on and Charlie had appeared in the doorway yelling for the entire neighborhood to hear. He had shouted and screamed and bellowed words I couldn't quite catch due to the loudness of his voice, but I pretty much got the gist of the reprimand.

I was not to leave school like that again.

I was not to climb into any boy's cars, even though I was acquainted with him.

I was not to go to Seattle without permission.

I was not to stay out past curfew.

Basically, I was not allowed to do anything I wanted without his permission until I was eighteen at the least, which was quite a bummer since with the life that I lead, I would eventually have to usurp Charlie's authority and leave school in the middle of classes, climb into a random boy's car, go to other places without permission (not just Seattle), and finally I would most likely be staying out past curfew. I really didn't want to disappoint him but hey, it can't be helped. Besides, I've already did.

"I thought Renee was just laying it on thick when she said you were too much to handle," he had said to me after I had bowed my head in half-hearted contrition. "I know what she's like, your mother. She likes to dramatize things to make her sound like the victim, but by God, Isabella Marie, if your little jaunt today was any indication, then perhaps I've she was understating things."

After that little speech, he had proceeded in taking away my stereo as punishment, which only goes to show how much he knew me. If Renee was in his place, then she would've sent me up to my room and ground me for the rest of my life or something. Charlie, on the other hand, knew me. He knew how to make himself heard when castigating teenagers and Styx was he good. Renee sure did know what she was doing when she sent me to her Chief of Police ex-husband.

I was climbing into my bed, already dressed and ready for a full night's sleep, when a loud commotion from downstairs sent a thrill of dread to course through my body. That didn't sound like Charlie bumping into some furniture and falling despite himself. If anything, it sounded like he was dodging something if his grunt of exertion was anything to go by.

Fearing the worst (perhaps Apollo was mad that I had walked out on him and had sent a monster to come after me), I kicked off the covers and grabbed wedged my drumsticks between the waistband of my pajamas. I then got to my hands and knees and reached for my suitcase under the bed. With my heart thudding loudly, I zipped the ragged thing open and took out the only weapon inside aside from the whip – Frank had a very disturbing sense of humor at times, which was made obvious when he gifted that whip to me on my fourteenth birthday; I hadn't used it even once.

"Alright," I murmured as I tightened the strap of my quiver around me. It was the hip and shoulder kind, which made it easy for mobility, and at the moment it was half filled with arrows. I've used the other half in some scrape that I can't even bother to recall right now.

I withdrew from my room with the effortlessness that came with sneaking around for the past seven years or so. I crept through the hallway and softly padded down the stairs, my bow already strung poised and an arrow nocked. It would fly across the room in a matter of seconds if I willed it.

The cold night air danced on my face, and I saw that the front door was open. Actually, it wasn't open. The front door itself was just gone, ripped out of its hinges.

"N-no," I heard Charlie's voice from the general direction of the kitchen, and so I changed course and headed there. As I got closer to the room, I could hear the heavy breathing of the monster I was sure was in there with him. "I don't kn-know where she is," he said shakily. "I've told you: she skipped school with a f-friend and never came back."

"Liar," fumed a distinctively female voice. "I know she was here. I saw her come in, saw you reprimand her like the delinquent she was. Unfortunately, I was too far away to see where she went after that. If your cooperate Mr. Police Chief, then maybe you can spare me the trouble of ripping this house to shreds."

Daring to peek into the room and take a glimpse at the scene, I quickly poked my head in and out again. With that short while, I saw that the intruder's back was facing me, which was a good thing otherwise I would be beheaded by now. The second thing I noticed was that Charlie was by the sink, standing to his full height and channeling all those years he had spent as a policeman. His eyes as widened at the sight of me, but never once did his expression of innocence falter.

"What do you want from my daughter?" asked Charlie, a sliver of fear seeping into his voice. "She's done nothing wrong, I assure you."

"She's don't nothing wrong," agreed the lady monster, "…yet. My master sent me to prevent her doing anything that might endanger – " She cleared her throat. "I really admire your courage and dedication to Isabella, Mr. Police Chief. One has to be blind to not see how much you love her, but what makes you think that she is your daughter?"

I flinched at the harshness of the delivery, and I vowed to myself that I would send this monster to the pits of the Underworld. Charlie wasn't meant to know that I was not his daughter. I loved him like a father anyway, so it was a pointless to tell him. He was the father I've never had.

"Not my daughter?" repeated Charlie in incredulity. "Of course she's my daughter! Who are you to barge into my house and –" The rest of his words died out, replaced by his chokes of air. "Let – me – go!"

I knew for sure that the monster had him on a choke hold. I had to move. I needed to do something before my _father_ dies from asphyxiation. Monsters tend to be cruel to those who oppose them, and Charlie surely was an opposition. Taking a deep breath, I readied my bow and arrow again and stepped into the doorway. The arrow flew and imbedded itself in the monster's shoulder blade. She spun around and faced me, Charlie still in her hands – if you can call claws hands, because it was then that I saw what kind of monster it was that was attacking Charlie. It was a shriveled hag with bat wings – how could I have missed that? – and she had talons for fingers, yellow fangs for teeth and glowing barbecue coals for eyes.

In other words, a Fury was in the house. In the kitchen, to be more precise.

"Get your mangy claws off of him!" I cried as I nocked another arrow. One swipe of a sword would be enough to take care of a Fury, but since I didn't have a sword on me and it would be too much a hassle to activate my knives, I have to make do with arrows. It's not like they can't take care of me, since I trust them more that I could ever do knives.

"Why would I?" retorted the Fury. "He's a liar. He deserves a little pain."

An arrow pierced her wings together, which was a wondrous feat considering that I was not in the vantage point of doing so. That, and the fact that I didn't shoot said arrow.

The next couple of seconds were a blur to me. I was aware that someone had come to my defense, someone outside of the house with a set of arrows. I was also aware that the Fury – Alecto, I was sure her name was – can only be described as furious (pardon the pun) with the interloper. She screeched like a freaking banshee as she flew out the kitchen window like a torpedo, Charlie still writhing under her grip.

Hours later, when I thought back to that moment, I remember screaming for the Fury to give Charlie back. And if I was screaming bloody murder then, I was screaming like a banshee when Alecto disappeared into the night, driven away by my mysterious aide. She was sure to take him to Hades, but what for? She wanted me, not him.

"He's the bait," said a voice behind me. I jumped and turned around, a lone arrow raised in the air like a machete, ready to strike. I vaguely took in the fact that I was outside in the driveway, clad only in my pajamas. The cold hadn't sunk in yet.

"Who are you?" I asked warily. My mysterious savior was a girl no older than I was (she looked it, anyway), with frizzy red hair and green eyes so pretty that despite the situation, I was jealous. She was exotic; I wasn't. She looked like she came from a well to do family whereas at the moment I looked like a homeless person, dressed as I was in my worn out pajamas.

The girl smiled and raised her weapon-free hands in a sign of surrender. Instinctively, I raised the arrow higher. Don't get me wrong, I thank the girl for saving me, but I barely know her. The only thing I was sure of her was that she goes to Camp Half-Blood – she was wearing the Camp shirt, and how else could she have acquired that lovely bow and arrow set? I was eyeing it with envy.

"My name is Rachel," the girl said softly. "Perhaps you've heard of me?"

My jaw dropped in disbelief and I gaped at her shamelessly. Rachel? I knew of a few Rachels, but I only know of one who was both a Camper _and_ a redhead. "Rachel," I breathed, "Rachel Elizabeth Dare, current Oracle of Delphi."

Rachel smiled awkwardly. "Rachel's just fine, if you please. Now, since that you are clearly not dying, what should I do about that jerk over there?" She jutted her thumb behind me and I turned around to see what she was talking about.

It took me a moment to realize who the crumpled form lying on the sidewalk was. Another moment passed and I had breath enough in me to yell out, "Frank!"

**A/N: Interesting developments... please review?**


	13. Showing Edward How To Fight Monsters

**A/N: Okay, I absolutely loved all of your reaction for the last chapter! I'm glad that Rachel's appearance was so well-loved and yes, Charlie was kidnapped. It's essential to the plot so don't get too worked up about it. Well, please do since that's your job as a reader. But you should know that there's going to be a happy ending... I think. I can't promise anything. If you've read my sotry Two Worlds: Exposed, you'd know what I'm talking about.**

**Anyway, continue reading!**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 12

Most people my age would usually spend their nights lounging about the house, trying to forget the worries that were school, teachers and homework. They'd spend the early hours of the evening with their family, having dinner and spending quality time and as the hours passed by, they'd focus on the schoolwork that really needed to be done - or just ignore it some more and talk with friends over the phone.

That would be the normal night for a normal teen.

As it were, I was no normal teen and this was no normal night. And it wasn't like my day started out normally either (well, it did but it turned into one wild afternoon). I skipped school to hang out with my best friend, found out that our seven years of friendship was fake, ran away from a god and pissed off his family, killed a man.. and to top it all off, my father was just kidnapped by a Fury. And to make matters worse, the Oracle of Delphi was glaring contemptuously at Frank Stinson.

Yes, everything was just peachy. I wonder what Frank did to get on Rachel's bad side.

"You know," I gasped as I heaved Frank's limp body towards my Chevy truck, "you could actually take a break from glaring at him and help me out instead. Frank's not going to move himself."

Chastised, Rachel blushed brightly (a trait we seem to share) and hurriedly offered to lift Frank's feet; she hid her discomfort quite well, in my opinion. Together we managed to settle Frank into a comfortable looking position on the back. By just one look at him, I could tell thau was severely injured. Surely, his arm wasn't supposed to stick out like that.

Rachel volunteered to stay in the back with him, leaving me to drive around to get help. Though I didn't know where it was situated, the town hospital was our best bet. I could consider asking Angela for directions, but I didn't know where she lived either. And so I just drove around the empty town, following the gibberish signs for directions towards the hospital. We halted every now and gain as my jumping feet accidentally pressed on the brakes.

Curse my ancient Greek inclined brain and my battle ready energy.

I heard knocking on the glass behind me, and so I slowed down and twisted to see what Rachel was up to. She had a frantic look on her face. Frowning, I stopped the truck altogether and climbed out. Upon reaching her on the back, she swiftly explained to me that Frank was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"He just woke up and mumbled some rubbish," she said. "And look," she pointed at a red blotch on Frank's shirt that I had initially dismissed as a design due to the lack of light, "he's bleeding even worse now."

I stamped down on my growing concern for my long time friend and tried to keep on a cool head. "We need something to staunch the flow," I said, meanwhile positioning my foot securely on the back tire and hauling myself inside the truck. "Do you have a scarf or a handkerchief?"

Rachel glared at me. "Do I _look_ like I have a scarf on me right now? I'm shivering for all I'm worth!"

I glared at her, too. She was not making this any easier. "You're just shaking from the adrenaline rush," - I didn't know if that was true or not - "but still we have graver matters to worry about. Frank may or may not die tonight, depending on how fast we can get him help, and no one else is going to die tonight."

Rachel ignored my last statement. She wouldn't understand anyway. "How about we take him to the hospital?" she suggested.

"That's what I've been trying to do!"

"Really? You looked like you were just driving around in circles, if you ask me."

"Well, I didn't ask you!" I huffed and busied myself in ripping my pajama sleeve off, my hands shaking. It wasn't long enough to wrap around Frank's trip waist, but if I tied it with my other sleeve, it would do. Glancing at Rachel briefly as she helped me dress Frank's wound, I felt guilty for shouting at her. I sighed softly and muttered an apology.

"That's okay," she said in the same tone as I. "I forgot how difficult it is to be a half-blood, what with the dyslexia and the ADHD."

"Hey," I nudged her gently on the shoulder, "my brain is hard-wired for reading Ancient Greek and I've heightened alertness to keep me ready for battle. It's not dyslexia or ADHD, as I'm sure you are perfectly aware."

Rachel just snorted in response. I would've laughed as well, but then a commotion from further down the road caught my eye. The streetlights were dim in this area, but I recognized it as the street where the Thriftway was located. Right beside it was The Lodge, a restaurant that Charlie and I frequent in, and a sporting goods store was on the other side. They were all closed due to the late hour.

"What's that?" I asked automatically, quickly finishing Frank using the makeshift bandage.

"What's what?" parroted Rachel. She tiwsted and turned to see where I was looking at, but her baffled face told me that she wasn't seeing anything. Still, I was certain that I saw something from that general area so, with a mumbled "be right back," I jumped off the truck and ran towards where I saw the commotion.

The place was eerily silent when I came to it. I stood there, in the middle of the road, my senses heightened and my body tensed for sudden movement. It was then I realized that I more or less have just walked into a trap, what with me in clear view of any attacker and with no place to hide behind. There was a trash can a few steps back, but I strongly doubt I can use that to my advantage.

A scuffle of hooves and smothered growls caught my attention, and I pivoted on my foot to face the alleyway between The Lodge and Thriftway. Instinctively I took a step forward to investigate, but then I thought about my previous track record with alleyways. There could be a hellhound in there and this time, Frank won't be able to save me.

'Snap out of it, Bella,' a voice in my head chided. 'You're strong and courageous in your own right. You don't need someone like Frank to kick a monster's butt for you.'

Yeah, but it would be wonderful if I had help.

I took a deep breath as I steeled myself. I have to do this. I mean, a monster wasn't ensured to be the welcoming committee. It could just be a stray dog or something, battling with another stray dog for... a bone. Oh, who was I kidding? Of course it was a monster? Why else would I be worked up like this? My instincts were telling me that a monster was in the near vicinity.

I stepped into the shadowed alleyway with the slightest hint of fear, my upper body poised to shoot an arrow at a moment's notice while my lower body was ready to dodge at the smallest movement of attack.

"Who's there?" I demanded huskily. "Show yourself or I'll shoot."

It was stupid of me to announce myself like that. I regret that now since something large, dark and hairy - not mention sharp, if the two horns were anything to go by - had smashed into me and caged me against the wall. Luckily, I was thin enough to not be pierced by either horns, but I was unable to move. Yes, I was very familiar with a Minotaur's horns, having battled with it (and the rest of the minotaur's body) back when I was still schooling in Sacagawea High.

The monster's fetid breath eveloped my entire body and it was all I could do to get enough breath to think properly - screaming would just get me nowhere.

"Bella!" Edward shouted. He was looking at me with abject horror. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" I repeated incredulously. "What are _you_ doing here? Get away before you get hurt!"

Edward sent me a superior look. "Er," he said oh-so-eloquently, "I'm not the one caged by the half-bull creature."

I really did not appreciate his sarcasm. If he was insisting on staying, then the least he could do was help, assuming he was the one the Minotaur was battling with previously before I barged in. Some hero I was.

"The Minotaur took me by surprise," I told Edward. "So, a little help please?"

I didn't know what I was expecting from Edward. Any normal mortal would never be able to battle against a Minotaur unscathed. In fact, any normal mortal won't be able to see any kinds of monsters in the first place because of the Mist, so the point was moot. But Edward - dear, dear Edward - was smart. He threw a pretty large stone (as in boulder size) at the Minotaur. I briefly wondered where he got that might piece of rock.

The two brawling men collapsed on the ground with a loud thud, and I swear the pavement below them gave way.

Taking advantage of the monster's momentary distraction, I got to my handsand knees and searched half-blindedly for my bow. The quiver of arrows were still strapped to my back, and my muscles hurt from where it had been wedged between my back and the wall.

I felt the unmistakeable curve of the bow, and I cried with joy as I flinchingly stood to my fullest height. My joy was short-lived, however, when I realized that my precious bow was splintered into three parts. Only a thin thread of wood was holding it together.

A piercing scream of anger distrupted the staring contest tdward and the Minotaur were having. Really, I can't let them have all the fun.

'Damn Minotaur,' I thought furiously, 'who gives it the right to destroy my _bow_?' Feeling righteous rage well up inside me, I reminded myself that I was not a cowardly person. I was a half-blood, a demigod, a hero. And if you could describe a hero with just one word, that would be brave. Daring. Courageous.

Grabbing hold of my drumsticks, I clicked them together and in an instant, two knives were in my hands instead of the musical apparatus. I reached behind me and fingered an arrow. "You have messed with the wrong demigoddess, Minotaur," I hissed before throwing a well-aimed arrow. It pierced the monster's brawny forearm.

That was when it came charging.

"Oh, Styx," I cursed. I raised my two knives in a battle pose, my knees bent and my legs tight in suspense, ready to jump out of the way when the half-man, half-bull creature was near enough. I counted to three. "One..." The Minotaur came running. "Two..." The space between us was lessening considerably. "Three!" I jumped out of the way, sticking both of my knives out to pierce its body as I did so.

I had drawn blood, and it spattered all over me. It soaked my hands, the sleeves of my clothes, my face and my hair. The Minotaur had yelped loudly, uttering a guttural cry. I did too, when the force of its tackle vibrated to up my arm. But I couldn't let myself think of the pain. I had a battle to win. This was not the first time I've battled a Minotaur and it would not be my last. There was still Aphrodite's words to consider; I still needed to find my Mr. Right, to start out my legendary love story and meet my father when he demands me to stop dating the guy. I still had a lot to live for.

I positioned myself again to meet the Minotaur's tackle. I waited five seconds before it came rushing to me again. This time, I was both ready and dreading the arrival, knowing that with the force the bull was going at, another collision might rip my arms out of its sockets. 'And I couldn't live without my arms,' I thougth wildly. 'How am I supposed to eat? To write? To press the button of my stereo?'

It turned out that my worries were groundless, seeing as Edward chose this moment gain my attention. And the manner that he did it was either incredibly foolish or incredibly brave. Either way, I found it hot. Seeing Edward Cullen meet the Minotaur halfway and push it to the ground in an immense heap of muscles and brawn? To witness him battle with it, in the process showcasing his incredible speed and strength?

Yes, very hot indeed.

My knives fell slack in my grip. Since when was a mortal that strong? Hold up a moment - was Edward even a mortal? He was able to handle celestial bronze after all, and he could see monsters. Plus, the strength and speed he clearly had was more than double than the strongest human alive can ever achieve. A worrisome thought wandered into my mind: What was Edward? Was this the secret he and his family were hiding? Were they... _monsters_ of some kind?

"Edward?" I gasped. It was a thoughtless move from me, since this managed to distract Edward from the death grip he had on the Minotaur. The monster, taking advantage of the sudden looseness of the manacles around its neck and torso, stood up with grace that was uncharacteristic with its kind. Buckling, it threw Edward off, leaving him to lie defeated on the muddy ground. He was covered in blood, I saw that much, but I wasn't sure if it was his or the Minotaur's.

Speaking of the Minotaur... The monster seeked me out and, seeing that I was standing virtually alone and in a defenseless position, came charging towards me - again.

I thought fast. With a heavy grunt, I threw my throwing knife at its chest. It became imbedded in its skin; it jutted out like a third horn, which was probably a bad thing since it was six, five, four feet away from me. Three, two, one... I scrambled out of the way with barely enough time to spare. Hurriedly getting back up to my feet, I gripped the hilt of my saxe knife with both hands and prepared to use it like a broadsword. Swordfighting was not one of my strengths, but a demigod's gotta do what a demigod's gotta do.

The Minotaur came rushing towards me again and I grazed its torso as I jumped out of the way. I heard the monster yelp out again when Edward tackled it to the ground once more. Using the momentum of the saxe knife, I spun to pierce its back just in time before it was out of reach. More blood rushed out of the new wound, caoting it's furry back. It was the last straw for the monster because at that very moment, like crumbling sand, it disintegrated with the wind.

The first non-gibberish thought I had was to check up on Edward. I can't have another friend severely injured.

The second non-gibberish thought, once he had assured me that he was fine and injury free, was to ask for help regarding Frank.

The third was the fact that two monsters had been after me: the first one had kidnapped my father and the battle with the second was in plain view of a mortal - at least, I thought Edward was a mortal. I wasn't so sure of it now.

"Bella," he asked me as we walked together to my truck. He had told me that he had a basic knowledge of First Aid, what with his father being a doctor and all. I had slapped myself on the forehead for forgetting about Dr. Cullen. "What just happened back there?"

I shivered unconsciously. "Alleyways and I don't quite mix" was my dry reply, but when he sent me a pointed look that I just couldn't ignore, I sighed and told him that I'd explain everything to him once Frank was safe. Of course, he would have to explain some things to me as well, such as the fact he could see monsters despite the Mist.

Edward had looked at me strangely upon mentioning that, and it was with a resigned demeanor that he nodded his acquiesce. "Let me take you home," he said. "My dad can fix Frank up, and then you can tell me why you're up at this time of night, battling deformed animals wearing a ripped set of pajamas."

Right, Edward was _such_ a comedian.

**A/N: Next chapter would be in the Cullen household. Yay! Well know what that means. Please review.**

**=D**

**PS. By the way, I am sorry for the terribly long time between updates. Well, I'm not actually. ;D My school is relatively new and just last night was the first ever prom night. I was part of the cotillion de honor, so the dance practices took a lot out of me. Hopefully, I'd be able to write quicker now, and not just for this story.**

**Again, please review. It is much appreciated.**


	14. When In Doubt, Eat Breakfast

**A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews, everyone! Here's the next chapter, but let me tell you that it's not the one where everyone spill their secrets. That'd be in the next chapter. Don't worry. It's nearly done. Just be patient ;D**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 13

I had a very, very strange dream that one of the Kindly Ones were after me - Alecto, to be more precise. In my dream, she had kidnapped Charlie. Also, a Minotaur was battling me in an alleyway and Edward Cullen, strangely enough, was helping me out. I know, weird. But hey, that's dreaming for you.

Oh yeah, and Rachel Elizabeth Dare was in Forks, too.

I let out a long yawn, tired as I was when I went to sleep last night. I tossed and turned, finding the perfect comfortable position to fall back to sleep again, but I couldn't seem to get it right. I reached behind me to grab one of my pillows. With a strong pull, I repositioned it in front of me and hugged it with both arms, burying my head into it. 'Now, that's the ticket...' I thought drowsily.

"Hey!" someone screamed. It came from beside me on the bed.

Wait a minute, on the bed? Beside me?

"What in Hades –?" I shot straight up and looked around me. The first thing I noticed was that I was not in my bedroom. I mean, since when did I have a four-poster bed complete with velvet hangings? Where was I, Hogwarts? The second thing I noticed was the fact that I was not alone in bed. Yeah, Rachel was in bed with me. We were both dressed in knee-length nightgowns, so it appeared that nothing untoward happened between us, which was a relief. How would I explain to my dad that I fell asleep in a foreign bed with the Oracle of Delphi?

"Rachel," I gasped. "Rachel, you're here." I gaped at the disgruntled redheaded.

"Yes, Bella," she said, glaring. "I'm here. Now can you please give me back my pillow? Who knew half-bloods could be such a pillow hog?" She tugged at the blanket as well. "And cover hogs, too."

I didn't have it in me to bicker with Rachel this early in the morning. Besides, what she said was true. I _was_ a cover hog. Maybe that's because I was used to sleeping alone? Who placed Rachel and me in the same bed, anyway? Must've been a cynic or something.

"Hold up a second," I said to Rachel before she went back to sleep. "If you're here, that means my dream, the one with Alecto and the Minotaur and Edward... that all happened?"

Rachel chewed on her bottom lip as she got up, leaning her weight on both her elbows. She was wide awake now. "It was no dream, Bella. You did black out though when you and your friend Edward got back to the car, so that might explain why you think last night didn't happen. But, I'm afraid it's all true."

"And Charlie?" I asked.

"Don't worry; he's safe in the Underworld. Like I said before, Hades is just using him as bait. He wants to meet you."

"Why?" I collapsed back on the bed, my hands to my face. "I'm just a completely nondescript girl with no discernible way of standing out," I said, quoting Aphrodite. I peeked through my fingers to look at Rachel. "Why would he want to meet me? And why can't he just come down here instead of kidnapping Charlie? It saves us all the trouble."

Rachel's eyes glanced heavenwards as she rolled out of bed. "Hades is a god, Bella. He's too laz – I'm mean, he's too busy doing his godly duties in the Underworld to come _up_ here and visit a half-blood, even if you are mentioned in a prophecy that could mean the very downfall of the Olympians."

Rachel moved to put on a dressing gown, but neither of her arms made it through because I, quick as a flash, was right behind her and grabbed it out of her reach. "What do you _mean_ I was mentioned in a prophecy that could mean the very downfall of the Olympians?" I asked shrilly. "Is this why all everyone's been hounding me the past few days? First it was Aphrodite and Ares, and then Apollo... Who next? Artemis? Athena?"

"They're not going after you in alphabetical order, Bella. If that was the case, then Apollo would be at the top of the list and –"

I shook Rachel by the shoulders. "But he was the first! I mean, when I met him in Seattle, I found out that he had been spying on my through Frank for the past seven years and... Wait, how is Frank, by the way?"

"He's fine." Rachel shrugged off my hands. "Dr. Cullen took care of him last night. Last time I checked, they were both in hospital. I'm hungry," she said, taking the dressing gown back from me. "What say you to a round of breakfast, Bella?" She was out the door before I could gather my wits about me.

"Wait," I called after her. "We're not done talking about this 'prophecy' yet." I caught up to Rachel on the stairs. "And where are we, anyway?" I asked, glancing confusedly at the practically wall-sized decoration that was a million or so graduation caps. Well, I might be exaggerating a little bit, but whoa. Who was this family and how come they've got that much?

"Oh, c'mon, Bella," said Rachel, grinning. "Use your head, why don't you. Where else could we be? It's certainly not Camp Half-Blood. The Camp wouldn't be caught dead with those masks on its walls. They're freaky, I tell you."

I followed Rachel's line of sight and saw a couple of rows of wooden masks. I wasn't certain as to what culture they were from, but they weren't certainly as freaky as some of the Greek monsters I've encountered. I told Rachel so and she just laughed and nodded her agreement. We talked idly about some of the monsters we've met; she even went as far as talking about her adventures with Percy Jackson, recounting the time when she met Percy for the second time in a freshman orientation where demon cheerleaders were involved, and cheerleaders just as they are were terrible enough to begin with.

When we reached the ground floor (and the climax of Rachel's story), Rachel stopped walking all of a sudden, making me bump into her.

"You go in first," she said, gesturing to the entrance where I was sure the living room was located. By now I knew that we were in Edward's house.

"What, why me? You're right by the entrance. You go." I had no idea what she was worked out about, but clearly Rachel was scared. Still, it does not change the fact that she only needed to take one step around the corner and she was in the next room.

"But the Cullens know you," she insisted. "I think it would be better if they saw you first."

"That's a moot argument, Rachel. The Cullens saw you last night when we arrived. I was asleep, if I recall correctly, so I think it would be better if _you_ go in first." Despite the straight to the point way of how I delivered my argument, I wasn't able to control the blush that spread on my cheeks. That must've been one great first impression for Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, meeting them for the first time while fast asleep.

"Now, hold your horses for a second, Bella," said Rachel, pointing her index finger at me.

"No, _you_ hold your horses, Rachel," I said, copying her finger waggling. "Why are you suddenly to afraid to walk into a room...?" I trailed off when one of the Cullens appeared on the doorway. By the way he was grinning at both Rachel and I, he had overheard our argument.

"Hi, uh, Emmett," I greeted lamely, surreptitiously curling my finger back. Now I see why Rachel was so reluctant in taking that step forward. I would be too, if Emmett was there to greet me on the other side. He was taller than either of us girls, and definitely more muscular and more powerful strength-wise.

And he had this manic gleam in his eyes that was magnified when he said, "Hello, ladies. I trust the two of you had a pleasant sleep?"

"As pleasant as it could be despite the circumstances," I answered. "We, uh, we're thankful, Rachel and I, that you guys took us in last night. I hope your parents didn't ask too many questions as to why we had to crash here."

"Oh, Carlisle and Esme didn't ask too many questions," said Rosalie, appearing behind her boyfriend. "It's Edward you have to worry about. He's gotten himself convinced that a," she chanced a glance to the side, telling me that someone I couldn't see was listening in on the conversation, "Minotaur… attacked you and him last night in an alleyway. Care to explain that?"

Seeing Rosalie standing like that, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed like she was reprimanding a child... it looked strangely familiar to me. Like déjà vu or something. I knew I should be thinking of a way to discourage Rosalie, and Emmett and Edward for that matter, from questioning about last night, but my mind was racing, trying to find a reason why Rosalie behaving like a tyrant was so familiar.

Rosalie. Tyrant. Rosalie the tyrant. I remember when I was around ten or eleven, I had ran away from Renee and found myself for the very first time in an alleyway because (I didn't know it then) a hellhound was after me. Someone found me behind a dumpster and brought me all the way to his home, and I remember waking up to a beautiful, golden-haired woman looking down on me. Her voice was angelic, so I had dubbed her Rosalie the angel. Her alter ego was Rosalie the tyrant.

I eyed the Rosalie in front of me now, ignoring Rachel's attempts to make me soften my look and say something. "Stop looking at her like that. Say something, Bella," she was saying, but none of it was processing in my mind because – well, because the Rosalie I knew seven years ago was the exact split image of the Rosalie standing right in front of me, down to the long blonde hair, topaz eyes and everything.

But that can't be. Rosalie Hale was only a year older than me. If she was the same person as the one that I met when I was ten, she must be at least in her early thirties by now. The resemblance was uncanny, however. And if Rosalie of then was the Rosalie of now, then that might explain her puzzling greeting to me way back when in the cafeteria.

"It's nice to see you, Bella," she had said. She didn't say _it's a pleasure to meet you_ or _you must be the Bella Jasper has been raving about_. She said _it's nice to see you_, as if she had met me before. Which, if my theory was correct, meant that she had.

"Bella, stop gaping like Eros struck you and say something!" Rachel yelled in my ear. I suppose she had reached her patience limit.

"Er," I said, shaking my head to clear the resounding hums Rachel had left with her yell.

"I don't think 'er' is going to cut it, Bella," said Rachel, clearly mad. "This is not the time for you to give in to your ADHD and space out."

I glared at her, annoyed for the yell and the ADHD comment. "It's heightened alertness, remember? Anyway, I was not spacing out. I was thinking about something, if you must know."

"Thinking about what?" chorused Emmett and Rosalie. They looked at each other and broke into smiles. "I hope it's an explanation for last night," the latter continued.

My face lit up as an idea to prove my theory just popped into my head. I couldn't contain the smile that played on my lips as I asked, "Hey, Rosalie, am I irritating you?" She looked at me warily before answering that yes, I was irritating her a little bit. "Then don't you feel like stamping your foot and getting Carlisle?"

"Why would I –?" she began to ask, but then she stopped and her features cleared to not show anything. "You know. How?"

"I remember," I said simply, shrugging. "It took me a while, but... here we are."

"I think," said Edward, stepping away from his hiding spot behind the wall, "that explanations are in order."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Tired of eavesdropping now, are you?" Smiling sheepishly, he bowed his head and looked at me through his lashes. "Still," I said, eyes not wavering from Edward's, "I think breakfast should come first." I nudged the redhead by my side. "Rachel's starving."

She barked a laugh and muttered, "Look who's talking." And then we all adjourned to the dining room, with Rosalie taking the lead.

**A/N: Reviews are much appreciated. Sorry it took this long to update, but the site has been a trouble. It simply would not me upload the chapter. Honestly, I've been trying to for weeks. Hey, at least it's up and running again!**

**=D**


	15. Out With Your Secrets! Part I

**A/N: For those who have been itching for the secrets to spill, this is the chapter you've all been waiting for! Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, you know they inspire me to write! Okay, without further ado, I introduce to you all the next chapter!**

The Daughter of Apollo – Chapter 14

Breakfast was uncomfortable, uneasy, awkward, plus any other synonyms a thesaurus can provide. The tension was high, and my body knew it because I could not steady my hand and every time I tried to take a sip of the orange juice, I managed to spill at ten percent of its contents all over the nightgown I was unfortunately wearing. Rachel, on the other hand, seemed to be faring much worse. She claimed to have been ravenous, but she barely touched her oatmeal and only nibbled on her French toast. Either she was too scared to eat, or Mrs. Cullen's oatmeal unpalatable.

I wouldn't know. I don't eat things that look like vomit, and oatmeal was what they used in movies to portray said bodily discharge. And really, it was disconcerting to shove gloopy white stuff into your mouth when six pairs of eyes in the form of Edward's family were 'discreetly' watching you.

The moment Rachel and I had declared that we were done eating, the ever hyperactive Alice grabbed both of our hands and led us to her room upstairs. When I asked her what she was planning on doing to us – after all, I was under the impression that we were supposed to discuss last night's events – she just assured me that the discussion will happen once we were decent.

"After all," she said, opening the door to which I presume was her bedroom, "we can't let you girls spill your deepest, darkest secrets wearing just nightgowns."

Rachel looked at me incredulously. "Is this chick for real?" she whispered to me.

"I think so, yeah…" I whispered back. I couldn't say anymore, seeing as Alice had pushed an extremely soft towel in my hands and ordered me to take a shower. Apparently, I smelled fruity. "Blame that on the OJ," I muttered, trudging towards Alice's personal bathroom. I stopped after a few steps though, to ask about underwear, but Alice seemed to anticipate my query and said that it was folded inside the towel.

I came out of the bathroom about half an hour later to a hilarious sight that threatened to replace Frank in a dress (don't ask).

"If you say anything, I _swear_ on the River Styx that I will make your life miserable," threatened Rachel. She was wearing a silk green blouse tucked underneath a full skirt, and on her feet were long boots. Not only were they leather boots, but they were stiletto boots, too. The only consolation Rachel was that they weren't killer three inch heels. They were just killer two inch heels. Rachel looked like she belonged in an office as a secretary or something.

"I'm not gonna say anything," I said through stiff cheeks, a vain attempt to stifle my laughter. Never in my life have I seen Rachel wear a skirt, let alone anything as fine as silk. Yes, I was aware that her father was a rich businessman, but Rachel was not the type to flaunt her wealth.

"Yeah, right," she retorted. "I know you're thinking how ridiculous I look in this outfit. Just wait until Alice gets a hold of you. She's just out to give me some privacy when I was changing."

Oh, was Rachel wrong. When Alice came back into the room and saw me, there was no manic gleam in her eye. She just smiled at me in greeting and walked calmly towards the wardrobe on the right side of the room (for Alice had three, the third being an entrance to a walk-in closet). From there she took out a baggy pair of khaki trousers.

"Try this one for size," she said, tossing the pants to me.

I did not wait for her to change her mind. Throwing modesty and decorum out the window, I quickly discarded the towel that wrapped my body and inserted my two legs inside the khaki pants. It hung loosely on my hips, but I daren't tell Alice this in fear of her swapping it with a skirt or a dress.

"It looks good on you," commented the spiky-haired Cullen. "Here," she handed me a simple white shirt. "Wear that and then put your Nike shoes back on."

"What?" spluttered Rachel. "That's all she's wearing? No puffy skirt or glittery corset or stiletto heels? Damn, that is so unfair!"

"Oh, hush you," said Alice. "You look sophisticated. You'll thank me for that look later."

The three of us girls descended the stairs after a minute and a quick argument about apparel. Upon entering the living room, I felt all eyes on me – well, I was sure that some were looking at Alice and Rachel too, but Edward's gaze seemed to be from three people combined. He was staring unabashedly at the thin strip of midriff that was left bare by the shirt Alice gave me. Self-conscious, I tugged at the hem of my shirt. The action, along with the kick in the leg form Jasper, notified Edward that he was being rude.

Not that I minded, of course. For some reason, his undivided attention made me feel good. A girl needed assurance that her body was wanted every once in a while, after all.

"Good," said Rosalie once we were all seated. "Now we can start with the explanations. Care to enlighten us, Bella?"

I fidgeted with my fingers. "I don't know where to begin…"

"How about you start with the Minotaur?" Edward suggested. "Was that being we fought in the alleyway really the mythological creature? And how did you learn to fight like that?"

"Fight?" Jasper's eyes darted from Edward and me. "You didn't say anything about Bella fighting the creature, Edward."

"Of course I fought the Minotaur, Jasper!" I all but yelled, affronted that Jasper could say such a thing. Can't he imagine me holding up my own against a mighty Minotaur? Well, I'll show him… "Fighting monsters is what I do, Jasper. Ever since I was ten, my life revolved around monsters: they attack me, and in return, I fight them and I kill them."

"But how?" he asked. "You're just a fragile human!"

From beside me, Rachel whistled softly and muttered, "You should _not_ have said that, pretty boy."

Fragile human, what's that supposed to mean? Jasper talks like he was not one. I had a feeling that Edward and his family were not mortal, but not human? That's a completely different thing entirely… Wait, did Rachel just say that Jasper was pretty? I understand where she was coming from, but _really_?

Shaking my head from my quickly drifting thoughts, I scowled at Jasper and assured him that "just because I come off as fragile, that does not mean I can't handle myself in a battle situation. I was trained by the best satyrs, centaurs and warriors from Camp Half-Blood! Just give me the right weapon and I can render you incapable of performing everyday routines." With a knowing smirk, I added, "I'm sure Alice would miss your company at night, so don't insult my capabilities again."

Alice's eyes widened at my insinuation. "How did you know?" she gasped.

I ignored her shock and focused on Emmett, who was on his side laughing at what I said. He was muttering over and over again about how Jasper got "owned by a human," once more solidifying my suspicions that the Cullens aren't what they seem.

"Okay, that's it!" Rosalie slammed her hands on the arms of the lounger she was sitting on and moved to stand up. Her tyrant self was resurfacing again. "I've had enough of this nonsense and – get your hands off me, Edward!"

"You're not hearing her out," said Edward, retrieving his hands from Rosalie's shoulder. "If you would just let her explain and you _listen_, then perhaps –"

"I'm not wasting my time on this drivel, Edward. What you saw last night must be wrong, there's no such thing as a Minotaur."

"Yes, there is, Rosalie!" Edward looked furious now. "I've seen one with my own eyes!"

"Oh, and I suppose you're willing to vouch for the satyrs and centaurs as well, are you? Half-human beings simply do not exist! Next thing you know, she'll be saying that mermaids and angels exist, too!"

"Actually," inserted Rachel unhelpfully, "Triton is a half-fish and half-man and he very much exists, so…"

"You're not helping, Rachel." I nudged her on the ribs. "Look, Rosalie, everyone, I don't know how to convince you all that beings such as satyrs and centaurs exist, but I promise you that what I'm saying is the truth. I've grew up with satyrs as my neighbors, and I've battled more than my fair share of that Minotaur." In an aside, I said to Rachel, "I swear, that thing keeps coming back to me like I'm its mother or something."

Rachel snorted. "You're not Pasiphaë, Bella, and Minos is not your husband."

I could not deliver my witty comeback of "that was just a joke," to Rachel because Rosalie called my name and asked that since I've claimed Greek mythological creatures exist, what about the Greek gods? Did they exist, too?

"Very much," I answered. "In fact, that camp I've mentioned? It's a camp fully devoted in training half-bloods, hence the name Camp Half-Blood. And half-bloods, before you ask, are basically just a term for demigods." At the stunned expression that everyone (apart from Rachel and me) was sporting, I added unnecessarily, "Yeah, by demigods, I mean the children of the gods."

"Children of the gods?" asked Esme in amazement. "Are you saying that…?"

"That the gods exist?" I elucidated for her. "Of course they do. They're not myths, you know. Far from it. As long as the Western civilization thrives, so will the gods. Western civilization is a living force, and the fire of that force is why they, the gods, are alive and messing with us poor mortals."

Loud thunder echoed in the skies, but I disregarded that warning and continued with my explanation.

"As you may know, Jasper," I said, glancing at him, "the fire of Western civilization began in Greece. The enduring influence of Ancient Greece shaped the modern world. When Greece fell, the fire simply moved to Rome."

"And the gods followed," said Jasper, his voice soft in awe. "When Rome fell, Western civilization moved on to," he looked at me, "Germany, I suppose. France, Spain and England, too. Whichever country was the most powerful in history, the flame followed; Western civilization followed."

"Not exactly," I disagreed. "Western civilization can span over more than one country. The country where the flame burns the brightest is the country where the gods reside. Now, for example, the gods are living here in America. _We're_ Western civilization."

Edward leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "So you're saying that the gods right now are in America."

I smiled smugly. "Got that hole in one."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the home of the gods Mount Olympus?"

If he thought that he could swipe my smug smile away with that question, boy was Edward wrong. "Yes, you're right. They do live in Mount Olympus. Not the mountain in Greece though. Like I said, they're living here in America now, so it's only common sense to think that Mount Olympus moved with them."

"But how is that possible?" asked Alice. "You can't move an entire mountain, ancient deity or not. And as far as I'm concerned, I haven't seen any mountains in the United States that resemble Mount Olympus at all, and I strongly doubt that the gods are residing in Mount McKinley."

"Obviously not," said Rachel. "Alaska's freaking cold. It's all ice and mountains and snow. The scenery might be nice, but I bet it's boring. No god or goddess would want to go there, let alone live there."

"So where are they, then?"

"New York, duh." Rachel rolled her eyes.

"That can't be right," exclaimed Alice. "There's no mountain in that area at all _and _it's a bustling city."

"Well, it's far from boring then, isn't it?" countered Rachel. "Besides, you're all thinking literally. The Mount Olympus we're talking about is not a mountain; it's the home of the gods. And since New York is pretty much the best ever city US ever had, the gods live there."

"And where could they be?" taunted Rosalie. "Like Alice said, it's a bustling city. I don't think ancient deities would live in a penthouse overlooking Central Park."

"That's because they have a better view than any well-placed penthouse," I said, interrupting whatever it was Rachel was going to say. "They live just above the Empire State building. 600th floor, to be exact. Before any of you say anything, let me remind you all that we're talking about the home of the _gods._ You can't be more powerful than that."

Laughter resounded in the room. Automatically, I glanced at Emmett, the last I've seen laughing, but he was not expressing his mirth. He was grinning, yes, but not laughing. Perplexed, I looked around the room. No one else was laughing.

"D'you guys hear that?" I asked, still looking around. Perhaps I missed someone out? Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, Alice… They weren't laughing. Neither were Esme and Esme. Rachel for sure was not laughing, and I certainly was not either.

"I hear it, too," said Jasper, and I was glad because that mean I wasn't going crazy. "Hold on, what's that?"

I followed Jasper's gaze and saw, in the corner east side of the room, a gradual brightening of light was slowly taking form. It looked like a man's form, but I couldn't be sure because the light was just too bright. I averted my eyes (advising everyone to so as well, just in case the brightness was what I thought it was) and observed, quite astonishingly, the Cullens shimmering like they just bathed in body glitter.

"Styx," I gulped when I saw Edward. I was reminded again at just how he can give Adonis a run for his money. His face was scrunched up in a grimace (from the bright light, I suppose), but that did not take away the perfection of his features. My eyes drank in his forehead, his knitted brows, his aristocratic nose, his juicy lips and those cheekbones of his that many would kill for. It was to die for – Edward was so handsome that he was to die for.

Gasping out "Styx," seemed to be an appropriate enough response.

Desire welled up in me, and I had to tear my eyes away before I launch myself at Edward like some sort of crazy, hormonal teenager. Eyes alternating from the open-mouthed Rachel and the scintillating Cullens, I was relieved to when something else demanded for my attention. Regrettably, that something else turned out to be Apollo. How did I know it was him despite his clearly altered appearance since the last time I saw him? I don't know. I just _knew_ that the man – the _god_ – I was facing now was the god of music.

"Lord Apollo," I breathed, hastily getting up on my feet. Once standing, I sank as gracefully as I could on one knee and bowed my head in reverence.

"Get up, child," he said. His tone was much deeper and much more authoritative to belong to a guy who looked no older than an eighteen year old. For really, Apollo was in the form of a sporty eighteen year old… and quite handsome too, if I might add.

I quickly got to my feet and, daringly, met the god's eyes, my own travelling from his loafers up until I reached his bright ones. "My lord," I said haltingly, "may I ask why – why are you here?"

Apollo smirked. "Other than to admire the beautiful women, you mean?" he asked, purposely giving Alice a once over. Jasper emitted a growl and draped an arm over the petite girl's shoulder, a show of possessiveness. Apollo's smirk grew into a grin. "I'm here because of many things, one being proof to your friends." His voice became grim at the mention of the Cullens.

"Proof, my Lord?"

"They're a stubborn, lot," was all he said on that topic. "Another reason why I'm here is to remind my Oracle that her time is nearly done and still she has not yet delivered her message." Chancing a look behind me, I observed that Rachel was blushing at the mild reprimand. "As for my last and, in my opinion, most important reason… I've come to claim my daughter."

My head snapped to Apollo. "Excuse me?"

"You heard right, child." Apollo walked towards me and took hold of my shoulders. "You, Isabella Marie Swan, are my daughter." He pressed a fatherly kiss on my forehead. "Consider this an act of claim."

For proof of his words, I hesitantly raised my eyes to look up over my head. Sure enough, there was a hologram of the sun floating above me. Tears prickled my eyes and I let out a deep, shuddering breath. This was happening to me, I was finally being claimed! Beaming, I did the only thing I could possibly think of to express my joy.

I hugged Apollo.

**A/N: o.O Yeah, Bella hugged a god. Even if it is Apollo, that's still shocking. Anyway, Bella's revealed to the Cullens her world, so it's safe to assume that the Cullens will return the favour. Bella can be relentless when it comes to wheedling out the truth – that is, unless she can't figure it out herself.**

**Please review!**

**=D**

**PS. I've planned for Bella to offer some of her breakfast for the gods, but it wasn't meant to be for this chapter. Lunchtime will be rolling around in chapter fifteen, so maybe we can get lucky there. Can't you just imagine the Cullens watching Bella dubiously as she spills her food into the fire? That's hilarious!**


	16. Important Note

_(Yeah, sorry to disappoint but this isn't a chapter. However, there's preview at the bottom so scroll down if you want to check it out before reading this author's note.)_

Hello dear readers, this is your MIA author speaking (or writing, whichever).

I know it's been a long, long, LONG time since I've last updated any of my stories, but better late than never, yeah? RL has taken so much of my time. Did I mention that I've moved countries? I didn't just move to the other side of town - I moved to the other side of the world! And school was kind of _blehh_ and I've been struggling to cope with the workload, the slightly different culture and the fact that I lost all my notes when my old laptop crashed on me.

Anyway, I figured I should begin writing again if I'm going to take this passion of mine seriously. However, **this is the problem:** I am feeling overwhelmed after I counted and found that I have SEVEN stories that are WIPs. Though only five are demanding to be updated, I still can't concentrate on writing because some part of my brain is worrying about the other stories. Does this ever happen to you?

**This is the solution:** I've set up a poll and you guys could vote on which story you think I should update. The following choices are...

The Watcher

Two Worlds: Exposed

The Power of Knowledge

Identity, and

The Daughter of Apollo

Just vote for whichever story you'd like me to concentrate on completing. The others would just deal with being ignored until I get some chapters out. By the way, I've been toying with the idea of RE-WRITING EVERYTHING on the story chosen by your readers, seeing as I've written them a _loooong_ time ago. I'd like to think that my writing skills have evolved a little bit since then.

* * *

Preview for one of the future chapters: 

Rachel closed her eyes, meditating and gathering her thoughts. When she opened her mouth to recite the words of the prophecy that mentioned my role in the supposed downfall of the Olympians. "Exiled to the north where there's always rain..." she whispered.


End file.
